


Mating Mark

by Choke-a-Bro (Vanya_Deyja)



Series: Baser Instincts [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: AU, M/M, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:00:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 23,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23374306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vanya_Deyja/pseuds/Choke-a-Bro
Summary: He's been a vampire little over a year now when Prompto realises he's caught feelings, bad. But are there rules around loving Noctis? How does he even begin tell Noctis how he feels? Ardyn doesn't make things any easier with a new scheme that sends the boys international.
Relationships: Prompto Argentum/Noctis Lucis Caelum
Series: Baser Instincts [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1678522
Comments: 160
Kudos: 247





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I HAVE FINISHED IT! Please enjoy!

Prompto wasn’t sure vampires could dream. He knows he doesn’t have to sleep, not unless he wants to, and there’s something very indulgent about that. Ignis tells Prompto vampires sometimes sleep for long periods when they’re distraught. It’s a cool off, mental health, kind of thing to help them recuperate. Prompto doesn’t need that. For much of his first year as a vampire he doesn’t want to sleep even for a few moments. There’s too much to do, too many new things to learn, and he wants to spend every waking second with his new coven.

Then, one snowy January afternoon in Washington, Prompto is curled up on the couch. Noctis is watching a superhero movie, thoroughly entranced, but Prompto’s seen it before. Gladio is reading lazily in the library, legs up on the ottoman, and in the indoor pool in the back of the house Ignis is doing laps. Everything is quiet, everything is beautiful, and Prompto feels a kind of contentment he used to dream about as a child. His family are safe, he’s safe, and he’s cuddled up nice and warm watching a movie with one of the people who loves him most.

Falling asleep is sort of an accidental side effect of that whole body gooiness.

Prompto’s not expecting the dream.

He feels more lucid than he remembers being when he used to dream as a human but everything has a backwards, dream-logic, kind of quality even if he has a greater clarity.

He’s in a little cottage, somewhere in a snowy wood, and Prompto coils up with what his brain imagines the first coven might’ve been like. Noctis slings an arm around him, Ardyn is making jokes, Gilgamesh is settled in that stern, quiet, way he always is and there are two other vampires. There’s a pretty blonde woman with a very vague face, Prompto’s brain attempting to form an image of Aera without having ever met her, and Somnus who Prompto’s brain casts as a kind of shadowed Noctis. The same sort of face and hair but with a more shit-eating curl to every feature.

Prompto’s dream starts wholesome enough. The first coven are happy. The whole atmosphere of the cottage, though humble, is not unlike the bone warming goodness that seeps through the coven house in Washington when Prompto’s current family are all happy and accounted for. Noctis is relaxed too and Noctis is Prompto’s metric for everything. If Noctis is happy Prompto probably has nothing in the world to be worried about.

Then Aera says something, a joke or a jab, and its gentle and Prompto only catches about half of it before Somnus hurls a cup at her face. Prompto knows the image. His father used to throw things at his mother when he got surly too. Aera recoils in much the same way, clutching her face, breathless and startled and scared but…

Well, Aera’s got a lot more firepower behind her than Prompto’s mum.

Ardyn lunges across the cottage before Noctis can even react, tackling Somnus into the floor, table upturning, and Ardyn starts laying into his brother’s perfect face with the strength only vampire fists can manage.

“Ardyn--!” Noctis panics, rushing up so fast Prompto falls out of his arms.

Prompto lurches so hard he falls off the couch he’s sleeping on.

Prompto scrambles up into a sitting position, hands grabbing the couch, heart racing.

“Prom?” Noctis pauses the movie. “You alright…?”

Prompto sits there for a second, frazzled, and tries to corral his thoughts. All he can manage to garble out is;

“ _Vampires can dream?_ ”

Noctis blinks.

Noctis laughs, sliding off the couch and climbing into Prompto’s space. He helps Prompto sit a little straighter and pulls an arm around him. Prompto slumps into his side, coming around slowly, and Noctis continues to snigger while he squeezes the blonde.

“Startled you?” Noctis supposes.

“Yeah,” Prompto murmurs.

“It wasn’t a nightmare, was it?” Noctis settles, nose in Prompto’s hair.

“Sort of,” Prompto frowns. “It was weird. Like vampire drama meets my shitty childhood.”

“Ugh,” Noctis winces. “I’m sorry, Prom. Are you okay…?”

“I’m okay.” Prompto forces a smile up to Noctis. He hates worrying the other vampire. “Just a little rattled.”

“You wanna eat?” Noctis offers. “I always feel better after I’ve ripped some asshole’s jugular out.”

Prompto stews on the notion, running his tongue over his lip in careful consideration. He and Noctis have been playing a fun game lately. Maybe that would make him feel better…?

“Yeah.” Prompto decides. “Let’s go eat.”

“Gladio!” Noctis calls, voice barely raised because vampire hearing. Duh. “We’re gonna borrow the car. Back later.”

“Careful on the roads!” Gladio calls back.

Noctis helps Prompto to his feet and they head into the garage. Black ice is a problem, especially at higher speeds, but Noctis has reflexes better than a race car driver. So long as they don’t go too nuts everything will be fine. Prompto grabs Noctis’ hand and tugs him back to the coat rack so they can rug up. They don’t need it technically but humans find other humans who are under or over dressed subtly suspicious in these sort of weather conditions. It’s a subconscious survival instinct thing. Most humans never clue into what Prompto and the others are but that’s mainly because they don’t give them any reason for suspicion. After all; once the spell is broken its hard to recapture that human-to-human ease their prey afford each other.

Prompto still doesn’t like hunting humans. He has a lot of empathy for them. He’s barely immortal, just a wee baby vampire, and he could very easily have ended up a dead human. He remembers not having options, being desperate, and so Prompto doesn’t like to take advantage of his food like that. Noctis was honest with him when they met, as honest as he could be, and Prompto much prefers that hunting style even if it’s not always practical or even possible.

But there are some hunts Prompto quite likes.

Human tastes way better than bear or buck after all and Prompto has to drink more than anyone else in the coven. If he had to drink deer every two days he’d get so fed up. Humans have a much wider variety of flavors. Particularly because they don’t all eat grass.

So Prompto and Noctis have invented a fun new game.

They park the car somewhere quiet and then they rug up, hand in hand, looking like a couple of dumb sixteen year olds. They then walk through the seedier, nastier, parts of Seattle inviting some poor fucking idiot to jump them with a gun or a knife. Prompto knows its not a perfect system. Some thugs are genuinely desperate too but some part of Prompto finds it easier to eat when his food started as an aggressor. So, yeah, they walk until they get jumped and then they feast.

Someone inevitably jumps them. Sometimes two or three guys. Noctis is always so theatrical about it.

“Give us your wallets!” Tonight’s thug demands.

“Oh no! A gun!” Noctis declares. “Holy shit, Prom, do you see that? He’s got a gun!”

“Yep, definitely a gun.” Prompto agrees.

“You could hurt someone with that,” Noctis tuts.

The thug is somewhere between unsettled and frustrated at this point, so they ready the gun.

“Wallets! Now!”

“Oh you’re definitely AB.” Noctis sighs like blood types are horoscopes and all AB’s are hysterical. He thinks he’s funny like that.

Then the goon frowns, confused, and as was inevitable Prompto tackles them down into the snow so hard something audibly breaks. The goon opens their mouth to scream, a reflex, but Prompto’s already bitten into their throat so hard he’s effectively crushed their windpipe. It’s surprisingly easy to do that as a vampire. Perhaps part of a natural hunt? A mechanism to ensure more successful feeding? Prompto’s always surprised Noctis didn’t break his windpipe.

Prompto whips his head back a few moments later, exhaling thick white breath into the cold, crisp, air of the backstreet. Noctis snorts behind him, nudging the corpse’s foot with his shoe.

“Better?” Noctis supposes.

“Full,” Prompto snorts, dragging his tongue over his sharp fangs.

“Let’s dump him then.” Noctis bends down.

Noctis can carry an adult human male like it’s nothing. He throws this one into a mottled old dumpster in a nearby alley and they both trot back out onto the street.

“Do you wanna head home?” Prompto asks.

“I’m kind of enjoying being out.” Noctis admits.

“What do you wanna do then?” Prompto wonders, taking Noctis’ offered hand.

Regis’ court have moved back to New York for now but they’re easily accessible. Besides, Noctis could encroach upon the hospitality of any vampire in Seattle and there are a few.

“There’s a twenty-four hour arcade,” Noctis tugs, “wash dinner down with a slushie, play whack-a-mole?”

“Sounds awesome.” Prompto finds himself smiling easily.

Prompto’s not sure his brain will ever ‘grow up’ so to speak. He’ll get older, wiser, but he wonders if some part of him will remain eternally sixteen years old. Noctis seems to have never lost his youth or his love of pop culture. Prompto kind of hopes he can retain that spark himself. Being best friends with Noctis, playing games forever, that sounds like an eternity Prompto would really enjoy.

“Here, share.” Noctis offers at the arcade passing Prompto his slushie so Prompto can suck out of the already damp straw.

Noctis and Prompto have the reflexes to obliterate almost every game in the arcade. Except the claw machine cause that thing’s fucking rigged. They always end up clearing out the tickets but there’s always a passionate argument about what prize to get. Prompto always wants stuffed toys. Noctis is unconvinced.

Prompto knows by human and especially vampire standards Noctis is gorgeous but Prompto doesn’t think he ever looks better than when he’s frazzled screaming at zombies in the shooter booth. Prompto finds his over excited scream so compelling he drags Noctis into the photo booth and compels him to make stupid faces. Prompto is building a wall of coven family photos in ‘ _his room_ ’ back home and between every row of polaroid’s there’s a whole line of photo booth strips from trips like this with Noctis. The photos give Prompto such compulsive joy, such delight… 

Honestly, things have gotten…

Prompto never dated as a human. He had crushes. Hannah Kirk in seventh grade made his heart swell up like a balloon but he never got the nerve to ask her out. He was shy, his clothes were dirty from his mother forgetting to wash them and his shoes were often sloppy because his parents were more interested in buying drugs than school shoes. He would’ve been mortified to ask anyone out. They never could’ve come to his house, he didn’t have a cellphone, he—What did he have? He was a wreck.

Now he’s vampire royalty.

And Noctis is the sweetest guy this side of eternity.

But, like…

Would that make things _weird?_

Prompto knows his undead gut flutters with a storm cloud of butterflies every time Noctis takes his hand but Noctis loves all his coven. Hell, Noctis loves Arydn in a special way even. There are bonds there. Prompto doesn’t know what romance looks like to Noctis. Would he act any different if he was interested?

What does romance even look like with vampires?

Prompto knows vampires can Mate. He’s heard about that in passing but he doesn’t know much about what it means. Prompto even asked Nyx at the clan Christmas ball in New York if he has a Mate but Nyx told him it’s a very serious bond and most vampires don’t get to that stage. That most vampires have ‘ _casual_ ’ flings of _‘just a few decades_ ’. Prompto, embarrassed by his lack of understanding, didn’t push further then.

Can vampires even have sex…?

Prompto’s mind is a whirl of questions every day. He looks at Noctis and he feels things and he starts asking himself all these questions he doesn’t have answers to. It’s kind of hard to ask at home either. He doesn’t feel ready to talk to Noctis and even if he could gather the nerve to ask Ignis or Gladio vampire hearing is pretty acute so his conversation wouldn’t exactly be private.

Still…

* * *

They make it home with the sunrise. Parking the car and heading inside the house. Noctis is just falling into Gladio’s side, nestling up, when his phone starts buzzing in his pocket.

Noctis whips his phone out and throws it on speaker.

“Hello?”

“Starlight!” Ardyn chimes.

“Pft,” Noctis snorts, “hi Ardyn. What’s the talk around town?”

“Well, so glad you asked,” Ardyn croons. “Am I on speaker? Put me on speaker?”

“You’re on speaker,” Noctis assures.

“Splendid!” Ardyn cheers. “Well, in that case, I would love to formally invite you and my darling little brothers to an event I’m throwing.”

“What are we talking here?” Noctis hesitates.

“Well, I put on my thinking hat, and I thought to myself; if the clans are currently engaged in a truce, what better time to have a tournament? Don’t you think?”

“A full tournament?” Noctis blinks, standing a little straighter.

“Oh yes,” Ardyn purrs. “We haven’t had a tournament of this scale since before the war, but I thought; why not invite my cousins in the New World to come compete? It’ll make for better drama! Clan versus clan, vampire versus vampire, tests of skill and strength! You will come, won’t you Starlight?”

“Fuck yeah, I’ll come,” Noctis answers with evident enthusiasm. “Where?”

“The Carpathians in—”

“Romania!” Noctis cries, delighted.

“I thought you’d like that,” Ardyn declares smugly. “Lots of space too. Plenty of room to set up shop where the humans can’t reach us.”

“Have you called Regis and Gilgamesh yet?”

“They’re my next call, immediate family first.” Ardyn tuts. “We will of course make all the necessary arrangements to accommodate the First. I don’t suppose there’s an email address one of my lads can send tickets and itinerary to?”

“Um—” Noctis glances and Ignis nods diligently. “Yeah, I’ll text you.”

“Austria first,” Ardyn warns, “set up will take a few days and I do want to show you our new catacombs in Vienna. The facilities, Starlight,” Ardyn makes a pleased sound, promising; “you’ll feel right at home!”

Noctis laughs. “Sounds great, Ardyn. See you there.”

The call ends and Prompto quirks;

“So I get I’m an uneducated slob, like always, but I gotta ask; what’s a tournament?” He laughs. 

“It’s like…” Noctis is bouncing on his feet. “You know how they’d have gladiator matches in Rome? Or big jousting tournaments in medieval Europe? It’s like that except vampires. Fighting beasts and each other, showing off their combat skills, proving who’s the best… In the old days masters would come to show their wares too; vampire seamstresses, musicians, artists, all that!”

“Knowing Ardyn I don’t doubt we’ll receive the same spectacle.” Ignis supposes. “And, knowing Ardyn, I suspect there’s an ulterior motive here.”

“Oh nothing surer.” Noctis laughs. “He’s up to something but this will be fun!”

“So…” Gladio hesitates. “Noct, are we allowed to compete…?”

“I mean…” Noctis hums. “I probably can’t. It wouldn’t be fair. But I certainly give my permission for you to compete. If you want?”

“Fuck yeah, I want!” Gladio perks, excitement creeping into his face.

“Ardyn should have some grand accommodations awaiting us,” Ignis murmurs. “He has been settled in the Old World for thousands of years. Regis has only been able to establish his kingdom since European colonisation.”

“That sounds nuts,” Prompto reels. “All that stuff. Places where vampires have lived since forever…”

“Looks like we’ll be using that new passport of yours Prompto,” Ignis smiles.

Prompto starts to join Noctis’ bounce. “I’ve never been out of the States. I hadn’t been on a plane till I met you guys. This is going to be so cool!”

“Ah I’m so excited!” Noctis spins.

They spend much of the day packing. Ignis reviews the itinerary and such Ardyn sends them and it looks like they’ll certainly be travelling in style. Turns out compounding interest is a vampire’s best friend in the modern world. That and they’ve certainly cornered the antique market. Gladio sends two or three emails to Ardyn’s men asking about the technicalities of getting some of his equipment on the flight. Humans get nervous when you’ve got big fuck off swords in the cargo but a private vampiric jet is decidedly cool about that sort of thing so long as the weaponry falls ‘ _within competition rules_ ’.

Noctis shifts subtly as they get ready to head to the international airport. Noctis normally wears hoodies and big chunky headphones, jeans, fuck-off combat boots, wrist bands… but when preparing to assume his role as ‘King of the Vampires’ there’s a subtle shift in his styling from gothic teen to designer goth. Noctis doesn’t look massively different but there’s something hot about when he looks just fractionally more put together. When he leans into super model and away from dishevelled Prompto can really appreciate all the perfect symmetry of his immortal features.

Done up like royals, bags packed, they leave the car at the long stay parking and follow their escort past security to the private check in.

Prompto never flew as a human and he suspects given his travel since has been exclusively on private jets he’s not really getting the usual experience. That said? Prompto still finds flying uncomfortable. Blood tastes funny at altitude but he doesn’t much like going fourteen plus hours without nourishment either. Noctis distracts him with video games for the most part but, in between games, Prompto starts to realise something.

Ignis and Gladio have never been Mated and talking to them privately is difficult.

Verstael’s been Mated.

Maybe Prompto can find some excuse to be alone with his blood-kin and ask the questions that are burning inside his gullet? If anyone must know the details of vampiric romance its Verstael, right? He and Ardyn have been Mated for a few thousand years. Surely, Verstael can answer Prompto’s technical questions if nothing else and with the tournament his coven will likely be distracted enough for Prompto to garner a little privacy.

* * *

It’s cold in Vienna when they land but they barely notice it ferried between private jet into private car. Its an almost two hour drive out of the airport, across the city, into the belly of an old estate. Prompto’s only seen places like this in movies. The buildings look like someone started them, a few hundred years ago, and never quite stopped constructing. Odd bits from conflicting time periods overlap each other in a complicated web but form a compelling overall picture.

Prompto wonders what the humans think this vampiric palace is used for? There must be some kind of cover story because their vampire driver takes them past two check points with human security guards. Prompto wonders if those humans have any idea what they’re wrapped up in. Do they think the buildings are haunted? Do they ever get eerie feelings? They’re not going to keep any vampires out. The human guards are strictly to keep humans from asking questions it seems to Prompto.

Once inside they’re escorted past layers of proper vampire security until they’re in a lavish, sprawling, mess of interconnected apartment room where Ardyn is waiting for them.

“Starlight,” Ardyn greets first, kissing Noctis’ knuckles.

“Do you ever stop renovating?” Noctis teases with a snort.

“Oh? You noticed the--?” Ardyn sighs, theatrically embarrassed. “Well, you know how it is; I’m so fickle! I like human fashions. It really is a filthy, restless, compulsion.”

“It’s not so bad,” Noctis permits. “If we didn’t adapts we wouldn’t survive. I’d be more worried if you lost interest in trying new things.”

“So true,” Ardyn nods. “And Gladiolus, looking handsome. I hear you’re competing?”

“Hoping to,” Gladio puffs himself up.

“Not marksmanship, I hope?” Ardyn asks.

“Uh—No?” Gladio blinks, evidently slightly confused. “No, I was thinking the swordsmanship.”

“Splendid!” Ardyn cheers. “Much better idea. You must forgive me, I don’t mean to be obtuse, but I’ve put a bet on the marksmen, and I would hate to bet against you.”

“It’s fine,” Gladio grunts.

“Ignis, no show of skill for you?” Ardyn pivots in his greetings.

“Not this time,” Ignis smiles politely. “I’m more interested in exploring the craftsmanship that will undoubtedly be on display.”

“I don’t blame you,” Ardyn chuckles. “That actually brings me to dinner. You must be hungry, eh Sunshine?”

“I’m starving!” Prompto whines.

“Poor precious boy,” Ardyn sympathises. “Must feed you immediately. Come, come, sit. I have options.”

They get themselves comfortable while Ardyn’s attendants fluster about.

“Now, I do have a lovely selection of blood wine.”

“Pickled blood.” Noctis snorts.

“The fermentation, the intermingling, that takes place between the wine and the blood is delightful.” Ardyn insists. “But I knew I was dealing with fussy eaters so I planned ahead; there is a lovely young vampire miss who makes a lovely concoction she’s been perfecting for fifty years. It’s mainly blood, chocolate and spice. Warm, of course. Interested?”

“Sounds good,” Noctis curls his legs up on the couch, tucked under him.

“I wouldn’t mind trying some blood wine,” Ignis counters.

“Finally! Someone with class!” Ardyn cheers.

“Make it two,” Gladio grunts, resting into his knees.

“For you, Sunshine?”

“I think I’ll stick with blood cocoa.” Prompto laughs. “Though I’m kind of surprised you’re not offering us live humans.”

“Oh I certainly can,” Ardyn assures, “I simply find after a long haul flight a heavy meal unsettles the system. Though, that said, if you want a fresh squeezed meal I can provide. Have you tried a human drunk on hard liquor? It’s a wonderfully heady taste.”

“Oh n-no thanks,” Prompto backtracks quickly. “I was just teasing.”

“Prompto’s a pickier eater than me.” Noctis reveals.

“Oh?” Ardyn supposes, interested.

“He likes his food to deserve it.”

“ _Ah,_ ” Ardyn nods in immediate understanding. “A popular kink amongst little ones. Most of them grow out of the sensitivity and diversify their diets eventually.”

“I’m sure but…” Prompto paws at his neck gently.

“It’s fine, Sunshine,” Ardyn assures. “We want you to be comfortable during your visit. If criminals are your taste you needn’t fear, you shan’t want for a thing.”

“Thanks,” Prompto eases fractionally.

“No Verstael?” Noctis supposes, changing the subject.

“Inspiration struck this afternoon,” Ardyn sighs exasperatedly. “He promised me he’d join us just as soon as… I don’t quite remember, actually, something to do with samples and centrifuges?”

“He’ll come when he comes.” Noctis shrugs. “So long as he’s well.”

“I think he does better than me most days.” Ardyn snorts. “But then, he’s the clever one.”

“I would like to see him,” Prompto presses gently, trying not to be too obvious. “You know, spend some time.”

“Of course, Sunshine,” Ardyn assures. “You’re a priority and I’m sure he’d let you visit the laboratory. I’m just banned because I poke things. He _hates_ that.”

“When are we off to the Carpathians?” Gladio asks, keen.

“Two days.” Ardyn answers. “Vienna and the estate are at your disposal until then.”

“I suppose not everyone will be coming out to the Carpathians,” Ignis rues, “Noctis do you suppose you should make an appearance to some of the locals who won’t be travelling out? I’m sure there’s plenty in Vienna who’d like the chance to see you back in society.”

“Maybe,” Noctis hums.

“I can facilitate that,” Ardyn assures. “My clan are very passionate about lineage. Most Old World vampires would be desperate to see you.”

“An appearance then,” Noctis nods. “I’m sure there will be more mingling at the tournament.”

“Obviously,” Ardyn nods. “We’ll have more freedom out there. Away from pesky mortals and their curious fingers.”

A vampire appears with their drinks about now. Ignis quite seems to like the blood wine but Gladio coughs, evidently finding it a bit strong, and Ardyn looks subtly amused. Noctis swoons with his cocoa concoction and Prompto is pleasantly surprised. He knows, if he was still human, he’d be like; what’s all this blood doing in my spiced cocoa? But as a vampire? It’s really nice. Spicy and sweet and rich. Prompto is looking forward to a few more cups of it during his stay.

“I should mention, Prompto,” Ardyn sips. “Your… cousin? Will be joining us for the trip.”

“Cousin?” Prompto supposes.

“One of Verstael’s youngest fledglings; Loqi.”

“It’ll be nice to meet more family,” Prompto decides though he’s genuinely uncertain because, like, he has no idea what this Loqi guy is going to be like. And ‘ _young_ ’ in vampire terms can be anywhere from like fifty to two hundred years old. Like, sure, he’ll probably be more vampire than Prompto. Most vampires are, especially amongst the elites, but that’s not hard. Prompto’s barely a year old.

“Anyone else of note coming?” Gladio asks. “Any tough contenders I should know about?”

“Well….” Ardyn chuckles. “Glauca, one of mine, will be competing but he hasn’t told me what arena he’s focusing his attentions on. He’s _fierce_. I made him to be a bruiser.”

“Big guy?” Gladio grunts.

“ _Big_.” Ardyn nods. “Older than you too, a thousand. He’ll give you a fight but you’ve got First blood so you shouldn’t embarrass the family too badly.”

“Looking forward to putting him on his ass then.” Gladio smirks.

Ardyn laughs. “A toast to Gladiolus’ oncoming concussion!”

“A toast to Ardyn’s soon to be disgraced fledgling,” Gladio raises his glass with equal certainty.

Ignis sighs and takes a deep gulp of blood wine.

“You’ve built catacombs under the estate.” Noctis prods Ardyn, sipping his cocoa and looking very comfortable. “I can hear water down there. Is that intentional?”

Prompto pauses, straining his ears, but not for the first time he rues Noctis’ hearing is just better than his.

“Those would be the Roman baths.” Ardyn smirks.

Noctis uncurls immediately.

“Well now you have to take me!”

Ardyn laughs but Ignis snorts.

“Noctis it’s getting late, we’ve been on a plane for fourteen hours,” Ignis reminds. “Perhaps—”

“Oh come on!” Noctis pleads. “Just an hour? Come on, they’re great. We can sleep when we’re dead.”

“We _are_ dead, technically—” Gladio starts to argue.

“Well you are certainly all invited to rest,” Ardyn offers, “I can take Noctis myself.”

There’s a communal glance at that, a consideration.

Ardyn obviously has plans. Ardyn doesn’t _‘just decide_ ’ to do anything for kicks. Let alone throw a tournament of this scale. He’s definitely up to something. Noctis can take him in a fight, if it comes to that, but Gladio, Ignis and Prompto would be vulnerable if they all got separated.

“Surely it can wait till tomorrow, Noctis?” Ignis tries to entreat.

Noctis stews on the notion for a moment, debating.

“Prom?” Noctis wonders, trying to make his own decision.

“Tomorrow morning? Yeah?” Prompto supposes, thumbs up.

“Ugh, alright.” Noctis slumps, draining the last of his cocoa.

There is a moment of collective relief but Ardyn looks gently perturbed.

“I do wish I learned how to do that, back in the old days,” Ardyn tuts. “I could never get Noctis to do anything. He had me wrapped around his little finger.”

“You’re a softie at heart,” Noctis salutes with his cup. “Alright, alright, should we crash for a few hours then? Sooner we sleep the sooner I can hit those baths.”

“Yes, I suppose that’s fair,” Ignis nods. “Might we be escorted to our quarters?”

“Of course,” Ardyn beckons a vampire closer.


	2. Chapter 2

The rooms are definitely lavish. Prompto’s gotten used to expensive fixtures but the design sensibilities around here are a lot more gaudy and old fashioned than Ignis’ sleek modern aesthetic. It’s kind of cool in a Rococo meets Addams’s Family kind of way. 

Prompto is given his own room but, part way through the night, the bed feels just too big for him to bear and he crawls into Noctis’ bedroom. Noctis seems to be fast asleep till his arms lock around Prompto and they nestle together like kittens. Noctis has strong arms.

In the morning its still wet and cold outside.

Noctis wakes Prompto for once, pestering him like a puppy.

“Proooom…” Noctis drawls, flicking each of his freckles individually as they cross the bridge of his nose. “Prompto Lucis Caelum…”

Prompto snorts.

The name is still funny to him, in a swoony way.

Apparently, surnames were something of a late addition to human and vampire society. Noctis is Noctis Lucis Caelum on all his fake human documentation and reportedly has been for a long, long, time. When the clans split things got tricky. Regis and most of his immediate relatives are ‘Lucis’ (because they were doing a whole ‘ _we are the true descendants_ ’ thing). Ardyn’s immediate coven are ‘Izunia’ (which is apparently was a big cultural departure thing he did when he was making his clan very distinct from Somnus’ descendants and indeed Noctis’ coven, whole lot of drama there). But Noctis and his immediate coven are ‘Lucis Caelum’.

‘Lucis Caelum’ is on Prompto’s new passport and everything. No more ‘Argentum’, no more gross association to his parents, nothing they can track, just a new name that Prompto wants to doodle on notebooks because of its association. He took _Noctis’_ name. He knows that’s like… a different thing amongst vampires but his human heart still thinks its romantic.

“Prompto Lucis Caelum,” he repeats, unable to stay asleep in the wave of giddiness that hits him.

Noctis’ smile that meets him when he opens his eyes tells him Noctis likes it too.

“Come on,” Noctis bounces a little on the mattress, “you promised me baths.”

“Never thought I’d see you wanting to bathe,” Prompto teases.

“Communal bathing is way more fun,” Noctis insists. “You don’t have to stop hanging out and water snuggles are fucking ace.”

“Fair,” Prompto laughs. “We should wake the others up.”

“You get Gladio, I’ll get Ignis,” Noctis declares, tumbling eagerly out of the bed.

Prompto laughs, throwing off the blankets and taking charge into the other bedrooms. Gladio is awake. He’s got super hearing after all but he still groans when Prompto climbs into the bed and throws himself atop him.

Gladio groans, tossing over, and draws Prompto to be squished under him. Prompto struggles, legs squirming, but Gladio grunts, bear like, and settles again.

“Gladio!” Prompto whines. “Time to get up!”

“I’m resting.” Gladio grunts. “Need all my strength for battle.”

“No, no battle.” Prompto insists. “You have to play with us.”

“No, brave warrior now.” Gladio shoots back.

“Says who?” Prompto huffs.

“Says me.” Gladio maintains.

Prompto blows a raspberry into his shoulder, a wet one, and Gladio shudders violently on reflex and rolls off Prompto to rub at the spit.

“ _Ew!_ Ya fucking little savage!” He laughs despite himself.

“A good bath will get that right off,” Prompto nods sagely.

Gladio throws a pillow in his face.

“Alright, alright,” he sighs in exasperation, “I’m up! God, I thought life was bad when we had one spoilt brat. Now there’s two!”

“You love me, I’m adorable.” Prompto assures.

“Yeah, yeah,” Gladio drags them both up. “Come on.”

“Hey, Gladio…” Prompto pauses, a thought occurring to him. “You aren’t going to get, like, killed are you?”

“Huh?” Gladio tilts his head.

“Like,” Prompto elaborates. “I know we can get exhausted but what does it take to kill a vampire exactly? Is it wooden stakes and stuff, like in movies?”

“Nah, Prom, I’ll be fine.” Gladio laughs, ruffling his hair. “There are only two real ways to kill a vampire and they’re both outside tournament rules.”

“What though?” Prompto pesters. “Just so, ya know, I can call foul in the ring!”

“Heh,” Gladio snorts. “Look, if you wanna kill a vampire you’ve got to physically separate their heart from their body for twenty-four hours, minimum, or drain all their blood.”

“Wha…?” Prompto fumbles. “Seriously?”

“It’s the blood.” Gladio taps his nose conspiratorially. “The blood is where the magic is. The heart circulates the blood so… Look, some injuries take longer to heal from than others, but vampires are pretty resilient. No one’s going to be drinking my blood, Blondie.”

“Regis has a bad leg though. What if—”

“Have you ever heard that story?” Gladio shoves him playfully. “Regis got his leg _ripped off_. It’s a little lame cause it hasn’t grown back all the way yet.”

“ _Those grow back?_ ” Prompto wails. “No way!”

“If you’re a vampire and you wait long enough, yeah.” Gladio pivots him about, nudging him out of the bedroom. “Come on, Blondie, Princess is getting restless for bath time.”

“God, I hope no on ever rips my leg off,” Prompto whistles.

“What’s this about legs?” Ignis snorts, being dragged by Noctis.

“No one’s ripping your leg off.” Gladio insists.

“Not without your express consent.” Noctis chirps.

“What…?” Prompto turns.

“People are into kinky shit, Prom.” Noctis grins wickedly.

“ _Ew! Dude!_ ” Prompto wails.

* * *

The baths run through the underground making up a vast cavern of interconnected pools under one domed ceiling covered in mosaic stars. Ardyn pulls Noctis into his side to appreciate it for a moment, while Prompto’s getting into one of the pools, but before Prompto can turn around Ardyn’s tossed Noctis into one of the pools like a sack of potatoes.

Noctis comes up gasping, flapping his arms, and Ignis is standing, waiting, but Ardyn starts to laugh and Noctis quickly follows suit breaking into cackles.

“You yeeted me!” Noctis splashes him roughly.

“What is a ‘ _yeet_ ’ exactly?” Ardyn presses as he sinks down. “Is that a unit of measurement?”

“It’s a verb!” Noctis splashes him again.

“You tiny vampires and your words,” Ardyn tuts, grin wicked.

Gladio’s the next to canon ball into the lower, larger, pool and Prompto’s just happy to be coiled in one of the little upper pools with Ignis’ arm around him.

“It’s so warm…” Prompto sags, head on Ignis’ shoulder.

“It is lovely,” Ignis sighs, sinking back against the wall.

“No glasses?” Prompto notices.

“Left them in the room.” Ignis grunts.

“Do you even need those or is it an aesthetics thing?” Prompto pesters.

“You think I’m that vain?” Ignis scoffs.

Prompto smiles innocently at him.

“Pft,” Ignis huffs, “I’ll never tell.”

“Hey,” Gladio remarks, smoothing his wet hair back from his face as he stares up at the ceiling. “They’re actual constellations. That’s a nice touch.”

“Of course,” Ardyn chuckles from the edge of the bigger pool. “If you’re going to do something, why not go a little further than is strictly necessary?”

“Be extra.” Noctis nods sagely.

“ _Extra?_ ” Ardyn repeats dutifully.

“Do you not have the internet?” Noctis supposes, wading.

“I do!” Ardyn assures, scandalised. “I quite like all the cats.”

“They’re the best part!” Prompto declares.

“Whoot!” Noctis seems to agree.

They’ve only been soaking for a few moments when the far doors open over Ardyn’s shoulder. There’s an audible pause and Ardyn glances back to call;

“It’s quite alright, come join us! You’re overdue for introductions!”

Another pause but the door does shut.

A young, blonde haired, man in a towel comes strutting over to them primly. He’s nineteen? Maybe twenty? Or he would’ve been when he was human. His hair is a darker blonde than Prompto’s or Verstael’s particular shade but its warm and a little curly. He’s kind of handsome but he’s got this sour, prickly, quality to his expression. Ardyn does playful wickedness, Verstael frosty apathy, but this guy has petulant down to an art-form.

“Hi!” Prompto waves.

“Our guests?” The vampire supposes to Ardyn, acknowledging Prompto but not quite answering.

“Indeed.” Ardyn responds cheerily. “Gladiolus, Ignis…” he gestures. “The First, Noctis—”

“Seriously?” The blonde pinches his brow. Like Noctis was not what he was hoping for.

Noctis starts to scowl but Ardyn is quicker.

“Watch your manners.” He warns in that razor-sharp quality Ardyn can take on in a split second. “And that’s your cousin Prompto,” he switches back to cheery with a gesture. “Say hello. Lads, this is Loqi. Verstael’s youngest.”

“Hi,” Prompto repeats.

“Hello,” Loqi gives a curt, disinterested, little bow.

“Pull up a seat, Loqi,” Noctis orders with a note of petulance. “Tell us all a yarn.”

“If you’d like, First,” Loqi nods.

Throwing off his towel he climbs into the upper pool with Ignis and Prompto. He sinks under for a second, soaking his hair, and comes back up with a toss of the same soaking locks. He’s annoyingly hot for someone with such a sour expression.

“How old were you, when they turned you?” Loqi asks, honing in on Prompto.

“Ah, sixteen.” Prompto smiles, resting against Ignis.

“I’ve heard a lot about you.” Loqi hums. “I was twenty. I’m a hundred now. I was the baby of the family until _you_ were born.”

“Really?” Prompto tilts his head. “I mean… surely other people made vampires in the last hundred years…?”

“Yes, well, I was the only newborn who mattered.” Loqi huffs by way of explanation.

“Oh, right.” Prompto swallows back his words carefully.

Someone sounds a little pissed about not being the baby anymore.

“So is it true?” Loqi starts to ask Prompto, but also Ignis. “That whole thing about how if the First dies every vampire will die?”

“Wouldn’t you like to find out.” Ignis smiles politely, unwavering over Prompto’s shoulder.

“It sounds like a myth to me. Surely. That’s not practical.” Loqi starts to ramble. “Ardyn probably knows but he doesn’t tell me anything!” Loqi calls over his shoulder, pointedly.

“ _Oh!_ Loqi, darling,” Arydn laughs like he’s just remembered something important, “do tell Prompto about your new lover!”

There’s definitely a story there because Loqi colours violently and _glares_ hard in Ardyn’s direction.

“What?” Ardyn replies innocently. “I’m sure they’d be excited to hear!”

“I don’t have a—”

“Loqi,” Ardyn laughs to the assembled vampires like a proud parent telling a funny story, “he’s seeing someone but he won’t tell me who. Apparently I wouldn’t know them. Which is funny, don’t you think? Because I thought I knew _everyone_ _important_ but I guess—”

“It’s none of your business who I sleep with old man!” Loqi bursts.

“Well I hope whoever or whatever they are,” Ardyn drawls, “they consent to come around to dinner sometime. Verstael worries about you, dear. I do too. What with you _slinking_ off like a _criminal_ at _all hours_ of the day and—”

“Ugh!” Loqi groans behind his teeth. 

Gladio looks as uncomfortable as Prompto feels.

This is so painfully awkward.

“A-are you going to compete in the tournament, Loqi?” Prompto tries to salvage the conversation.

“I see no reason to prove myself,” Loqi announces. “I’m not a show pony. I’m a warrior.”

“You won’t consider it?” Gladio asks from the lower pool. “I’m sure your clan would like the occasion to cheer you on in combat. It’d probably raise everyone’s spirits.”

“I haven’t even decided if I’m going,” Loqi shrugs. “It’s so far out in the mountains. Away from civilisation. Frankly I’m considering—”

“Loqi, Loqi,” Ardyn tuts, “don’t be ridiculous, of course you’re coming, _everyone’s coming._ ”

“You just want to spy on me.” Loqi accuses.

“Well,” Ardyn continues his train of thought as if Loqi hasn’t spoken. “Everyone who matters is coming. If you don’t want to come—”

“Well how are we determining importance?” Loqi shoots back. “Because you’ve never thought I’m important.”

“I do think you’re important!” Ardyn assures. “Important to Verstael.”

Loqi’s glower could melt steel.

Prompto swallows.

God, thank goodness Prompto doesn’t have to deal with coven dynamics this awkward. Gladio and Ignis love him. Noctis loves him. He’s safe and wanted and he belongs. This? This is something else.

“I’m going to go rinse off.” Noctis announces. “I’m getting too hot.”

“I think I’ll join you,” Ardyn agrees.

“Yeah, I think I’m as rejuvenated as its gonna get.” Gladio starts to wade towards the water’s edge. “You guys coming?”

“Yes, I think so,” Ignis unfurls from Promtpo.

“I…” Prompto glances over Loqi for a second longer. “I’m just going to sit another minute.”

“Do come join us when you’re ready, Sunshine.” Ardyn croons.

Prompto forces a smile.

Loqi stews silently, glaring at his knees through the hot water, and Prompto shuffles a little closer as the others leave.

“So…” Prompto murmurs as the doors shut. “Who were you before you were turned…?”

“No one ever asks that,” Loqi scoffs. “It’s irrelevant. I’m a vampire now.”

“Yeah, but…” Prompto shrugs. “That wasn’t so long ago for us, right? I was living behind a dumpster before Noctis found me. Pretty grand, right?” He laughs, trying to be friendly.

Loqi glances at him, expression stern, but admits. “Workhouse.”

“What was that like?” Prompto encourages gently.

“Well, when you get too big for your fingers to fit between machines as a child labourer,” Loqi sneers, “you sometimes end up in the workhouses trying to make ends meet. Same kind of deal.”

“Oh…” Prompto nods. “Poor then.”

“You’re this century poor.” Loqi scowls. “You got mandatory schooling and food stamps and—"

“Yeah but that doesn’t mean my parents bought me shoes, or spent money on the heating bill instead of weed,” Prompto murmurs back firmly. “It’s hard either way. Right?”

Loqi sags a little. “Yeah, either way.” He admits.

“Were you a descendant too?” Prompto needs to know.

“No,” Loqi shakes his head. “Verstael used human factory workers for some projects. I got too inquisitive. He took a liking to me though so… I’ve lived like a king ever since.”

Loqi doesn’t sound satisfied with that.

“Did you take a liking to them?” Prompto asks, cocking his head towards where Ardyn’s shadow still lingers.

“It’s very hard when the people you admire don’t respect you.” Loqi explains carefully. “I admire Verstael a great deal. I want to make him proud. He saw something in me worth saving, elevating even, but…. Well, Ardyn doesn’t take me seriously _at all_.”

“A hundred years is a lot of time to build resentment,” Prompto supposes.

“Yeah.” Loqi snorts, sagging back totally, looking suddenly a lot smaller. “Then you rock up, out of nowhere, and stall the war. Sort of showed me up there, cousin.”

“Sorry,” Prompto smiles weakly, “not my plan.”

“I know,” Loqi admits with a sigh.

“But you found someone?” Prompto leans close, conspiratorial and friendly. “That’s good, right? No matter what anyone thinks if they make you happy that’s worth all of it. Right?”

“Yeah,” Loqi manages a weak grin.

“What’re they like…?” Prompto asks.

“ _Stubborn,_ ” Loqi stresses exasperatedly, laughing despite himself. “He’s… He’s different. But there’s magnetism and he sees me and… I don’t know. He really seems to like the stupid street urchin some part of me still is under all the fancy designer clothes…”

Prompto smiles warmly. “Noctis is like that. Good people do great things with the parts of ourselves we don’t always like, ya know?”

“Yeah.” Loqi nods. “That’s true.”

“Don’t let Ardyn get you down then,” Prompto appeals. “Your guy likes you just fine just as you are.”

Loqi nods again, more certain, starting to puff himself up a little.

“You…” Loqi glances at him, eyes crisscrossing his face. “You’re okay.”

“Yeah, you too.” Prompto offers his hand. “Truce?”

“Truce.” Loqi sighs, shaking his hand. “Sorry for losing my shit. I really don’t want Ardyn to ruin this for me. He’d lose his fucking marbles if he ever met the guy.”

“My lips are sealed,” Prompto promises.

“You better go catch up with your coven.” Loqi cocks his head. “Don’t want to get left behind.”

“Actually…” Prompto rubs his thumb against the edge of his index finger under the water. “I really need to talk to Verstael. Do you think you could take me?”

Loqi considers it for a moment.

“Yeah,” he decides. “Sure.”

* * *

They get dried off after a quick rinse and Loqi leads Prompto through the tunnels to a different section of the catacombs. Prompto’s kind of amazed how big the underground under the palace is. How long have the vampires been building here? What else is lurking down here? Just the walls in the tunnels look like stone that’s been painted over. Prompto can see cracks in the paint revealing thirty assorted shades lurking under the current coat.

Loqi takes Prompto down a hive of tunnels into another vast domed room where the ceiling is covered in huge lights. The lights make sense a second later when Prompto's eyes travel downward and find the clustered greenhouse, the cornucopia, of plants littering every space. Some of the plants are even contained in glass or cages. Prompto remembers Ignis told him something about poisonous plants and that kind of practice but—

"Verstael!" Loqi calls, leading Prompto between some thick foliage. "You here?"

"Right corner," Verstael calls back over the soft sound of a spray bottle. "Who'd you bring?"

"Prompto," Loqi answers. 

"You got a second?" Prompto asks, pushing forward another step. 

"Sure. Just don't touch anything." Verstael replies. 

"Later," Loqi pats his shoulder in parting. 

"Thanks," Prompto smiles at him, slipping between more packed rows of plants to head back towards the corner. 

Verstael is definitely less grand here- slacks, lab coat, stuffed pockets, thoughtful expression- but Prompto kind of appreciates the low-key nature of the setting. He's not sure he'd feel comfortable having this discussion in full vampire regalia. He shuffles a little closer carefully, keeping his hands to himself. 

"This place is amazing." He murmurs.

"One of my private laboratory spaces." Verstael explains. "I have facilities across the old world, human workers, but I prefer the comfort of my own home when I can get it." 

"You must've made so many things since you turned..." Prompto rues.

"Penicillin is still my personal favourite. I don't much care for what they did with nuclear fission." Verstael shrugs. "You're looking well? I assume Ardyn's been entertaining you?" 

"Yeah he's pulled out all the stops," Prompto snorts warmly. "I was really hoping to talk to you though. About some personal stuff."

"Talk away," Verstael invites, "ignore my hands, I think clearer if they're occupied."

"Sure," Prompto laughs. "I... well..." He paws at his neck gently, trying to find the words. "I wanted to ask about vampire relationships. Courting, Mating, technical stuff....

Verstael doesn't pause but he does frown. "I'm surprised you're here then. You didn't want to ask your immediate coven?" 

"I just..." Prompto flushes gently. "We live in each other's pockets so its hard to get privacy for that kind of chat and you've been Mated for forever so I figured you'd know heaps."

"Hmm, I suppose that's fair," Verstael permits. "Where do you want to start?"

"Well, like..." Prompto bites his lip. "Human sex. Can vampires--?"

"Yes." Verstael snorts. "The mechanics are the same. Be mindful of strength discrepancies but otherwise its identical."

"Can-- Like, if I was a woman could I get pregnant?" 

"No," Verstael answers. "We're undead, simple answer. Biologically its more complicated than that but vampire-vampire sex doesn't produce offspring without extreme intervention."

"Right," Prompto digests. "And, like... is there a difference between romantic partners and Mates?"

"Yes," Verstael beckons Prompto to follow him down the row of plants as he works. "Vampires can be romantically involved for long periods of time but Mating requires.... Well, there's a Mating Mark and there's Bonding which... I suppose its the vampire version of sex?"

"How does that work?" Prompto frowns. 

"Mated vampires will feed off each other," Verstael reveals. "Those love bites make Mating Marks." 

"But..." Prompto pauses. "I thought feeding off another vampire could kill them?"

"It can. Draining a vampire is one of the only ways to kill them." Verstael nods. "That's why Mating is a serious thing. You're trusting your Mate not to kill you. Especially if they're stronger than you."

"Is that-- Does it even feel good?" Prompto tries to fathom. Head spinning.

"Amazing," Verstael assures. "But most vampires are a little nervous to take that kind of plunge. There's some evidence extended periods of regular Bonding can have supernatural side effects but there aren't many other Mated pairs for me to gather data from so..." 

"Side effects?" Prompto presses.

"You'd have to be Mated for a considerable amount of time before you noticed anything, if you noticed anything," Verstael dismisses. "Don't stress about that. Don't stress about any of it. You're far too young to be Mating anyone."

"But say I did--"

"You shouldn't." Verstael insists. "You're not even past a human life span and a bond like that is difficult to break. Your coven, your social circle, your position... all those things could be affected by forming or breaking a bond. Just fuck, that's my advice."

"Did you wait?" Prompto wonders.

"I..." Verstael pauses this time, hesitating. "Honestly? No. I was Mated my second night. But in hindsight I got insanely lucky." 

" _Second night?_ " Prompto wheezes.

"In my defence, Ardyn doesn't do casual and we were courting before he turned me," Verstael argues. "I knew him for three years as a human before he turned me." 

"But..." Prompto tries to fathom that. "You couldn't have known how the transformation would change your personality either." 

"Exactly," Verstael nods. "I'm not saying it was smart. It worked for us. But I wouldn't recommend other people try it."

"I'm..." Prompto wrings his fingers absently. "I'm getting feelings."

"Did you date? As a human?" Verstael asks.

"No, not really."

"Try the more human things first then," Verstael recommends. "There's plenty complication in human sex to keep you busy for a few hundred years. Trust me." 

"Yeah, that's true..." Prompto admits. 

Part of his head though, treacherous and small, thinks about those gooey nights Noctis would feed off him when he was still human and the blistering, bubbly, taste of Noctis' blood when he turned Prompto. Nothing's ever tasted as good.

“And what sparked this, exactly?” Verstael prods. “Some New World beauty making big promises?”

“Not exactly…” Prompto dithers, not wanting to say too much. Verstael is his blood-kin but their covens are sometimes at odds. He doesn’t want to give Verstael a strategic advantage Ardyn could use against him.

“Now, let’s be fair.” Verstael pivots towards him. “I’ve given you a lot of information for free. Surely I’m entitled to a little back?”

“I just…” Prompto wrings his fingers. “No one’s making promises. I’ve caught feelings. My coven are all very handsome, you know?”

“Hmm,” Verstael snorts. “That would be an interesting coupling. Dynastically significant too. Be careful, won’t you?”

Prompto nods.

“I don’t suppose I can get a hint?” Verstael teases.

Prompto colours and shakes his head firmly.

“Interesting…” Verstael hums in that infuriatingly knowing way. “Point still stands; start small.”

“R-right,” Prompto digests. “Human stuff.”

“Anything else, Prompto?”

“No, I think that’s all I can handle for now,” he laughs weakly.

“I’m going to be a little longer. Do you need an escort back upstairs?”

“Yes, please.”

Verstael pulls a radio out of his stuffed pockets and turns the frequency. Button pressed he brings the receiver to his mouth.


	3. Chapter 3

When Prompto makes it back to his coven Noctis looks thoughtful, restless even.

“There you are,” he opens his arms on the couch in their apartments. “I was worried you’d gotten kidnapped.”

“Would you have come and rescued me?” Prompto laughs, collapsing into Noctis’ side.

“Yeah, of course.” Noctis promises, warm and snug against him. “Loqi get any better after we left?”

“Yeah actually,” Prompto admits. “He’s just rankled. I think there’s a nice guy under it.”

“Were you talking that whole time?” Noctis ponders.

“Nah, I went to see Verstael too,” Prompto answers; “wanted to pay my respects.” It’s a lie but Prompto does _not_ want to explain he was getting the lurid details of vampire sex from his great-great-great something grandfather. Least of all to Noctis.

“Ardyn managed to get me alone,” Noctis reveals. “Distracted Ignis and Gladio with some ass-kisser vampire who wanted to talk to Gladio about the tournament.”

“Any clue what he’s up to now?” Prompto murmurs.

“He suggested I move the coven back to the Old World.” Noctis reveals.

“ _Oh_ ,” Prompto digests.

“I can see the logic.” Noctis admits. “At least for him. He hasn’t let that grudge of his go completely. He’d still liked to wipe out all of Somnus’ descendants. But if I’m here he’s got more influence over me and he can paint them out as bad guys easier.”

“That’s true.” Prompto nods. “I feel like there’s a but…?”

“I…” Noctis frowns, sagging a little. “I know it’s a scheme, a play, but that doesn’t mean I don’t genuinely like these corners of the world and it doesn’t mean I don’t miss Ardyn’s company.”

“Would you rather be here than America?” Prompto wonders, slumping his head on Noctis’ shoulder.

“I don’t know honestly…” Noctis admits. “I don’t know at all. It’s… I’m conflicted.”

“No rush,” Prompto promises, squeezing him closer. “Maybe there’s a middle ground we can walk? I’m sure we can think of something. What did you tell Ardyn?”

“Played it as a joke, played dumb,” Noctis shrugs, pulling his legs up and wrapping around Prompto. “He’ll push again though. I think this is all one elaborate push.”

“Like a big sales pitch?” Prompto supposes.

“Yeah.” Noctis nods. “All the things and places I used to love before I went into hiding. All the parts of being an active King I miss.”

“Did you tell Ignis and Gladio?”

“Yeah.”

“What did they say?” Prompto asks.

“They’ll stand by me whatever happens,” Noctis sighs. “But they didn’t have any brilliant ideas either.”

“We’ve got time.” Prompto promises. “We just need to think.”

“Right.”

Prompto nestles down, tucked against Noctis. Noctis is a funny creature. Sometimes he feels so small but other times he seems vast, eternal, supernatural. Prompto wants to say something. In a rush of emotion, he wants to explain how he’s feeling. He wants to play video games with Noctis forever but… right now that feels brutally shallow. He feels like Noctis always tells him what he’s thinking and feeling, is honest with him, but Noctis has been honest since the day they met. That doesn’t mean Prompto is special. Does Prompto actually know much about him? How did he meet Ignis and Gladio? What was life in hiding like? What was the first coven like? How was Noctis even born?

Prompto realises, weakly, that he has more questions than answers. He’s known Noctis for a considerable chunk of time but that’s on a human scale. Noctis is thousands of years old. He could still be deciding if he really likes Prompto or if Prompto is just amusing. Prompto is so small in the grand scheme of things. How could Noctis commit to him, seriously, when Prompto barely even knows him?

Prompto urge to confess backflips and, in a moment, he feels devastatingly naive.

“You okay?” Noctis rubs his cheek against him. “You’ve gone all quiet.”

“Just thinking,” Prompto diverts without really answering the question.

Noctis is handsome and sweet. Noctis makes him feel safe, wanted, and special but does Prompto like those feelings or Noctis himself? He doesn’t honestly know. His heart says it’s Noctis, Noctis’ wonderful heart, but does Prompto have any proof?

He’s just some vagabond human, grateful to be freed from his old life, but still blisteringly more mortal than anything else.

Noctis is a supernatural force.

Prompto’s just a super powered kid.

What could they possibly have in common? Sure they share some interests now but Noctis’ love of video games and manga will pass with the century as he finds new distractions. He will adapt. Will his love for Prompto fizzle out too? A passing fancy?

It hurts just to think it.

“Hey, hey,” Noctis tilts his chin up, “you’re fretting.”

“Is it that obvious?” Prompto smiles weakly.

“It’s going to be fine.” Noctis promises with a certainty Prompto’s not sure he genuinely feels. “We’ll figure out what to do about Ardyn. We always do.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” Prompto nods.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Noctis presses. “No one said anything bad? You seem… I don’t know, you seem a million miles off.”

“I just…” Prompto bites his lip.

“What?” Noctis cups his cheek.

“I don’t ever want us to change.” Prompto warbles, tossing his arms around Noctis’ neck.

 _I don’t want you to get bored of me_.

“Us?” Noctis catches him. “Prom, never. I’m here for as long as you’ll have me. One hundred years, one thousand years, whatever you want.”

Prompto squeezes Noctis, unable to squeeze him tight enough to actually hurt, and buries his face. Noctis squeezes him back, face buried in his neck and shoulder, and Prompto’s not sure how long they sit like that but it’s not long enough. Prompto doesn’t want to let go.

* * *

That evening they have a public appearance in Vienna. Word went out late last night about Noctis’ intention and apparently vampires have surged upon the city, crowding the underground, hoping for a chance to see the First.

“You haven’t done this in a while, I suspect,” Ignis supposes to Noctis as they drive out of the estate.

“Hmm,” Noctis grunts into his palm, glancing out the window.

“Noct?” Gladio presses.

“Huh?” Noctis seems to hear them this time. “What?”

“You haven’t made a public appearance in a while, right?” Ignis repeats patiently.

“Right,” Noctis sighs. “I used to go into the city, entertain guests, go on tour… but after the war started I didn’t make organised appearances anymore. I was in hiding. This is… it’s kind of surreal. There were a lot less vampires back then. I don’t… I’m not sure what to expect?”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Ignis promises, taking Noctis’ hand. “You won’t be alone.”

“Maybe you guys should wait outside.” Noctis frowns.

“Why?” Prompto asks.

“I don’t know what to expect,” Noctis repeats, “what if things get heated? I basically abandoned them. What if—”

“Then we should be there to help you,” Gladio declares firmly. “We can handle it, Princess.”

Noctis glances to Prompto, like he’s worried, but doesn’t seem to know what else to say. He rests against Ignis, looking deceptively small, and ignis bundles him up like a dutiful guardian but when they arrive at the venue Noctis sits up, takes a deep breath, and like flicking a switch becomes the model of effortless composure.

The venue is a vast factory on the outskirts of Vienna. It’s obviously still in operation but tonight it’s been co-opeted for a horde of common vampires.

When they step out, tucked into a drive out the back, a hulking armoured vampire is waiting for them.

“And you are?” Noctis asks, as the vampire helps him out of the car.

“Glauca, Majesty.” The beast of a vampire rumbles. “My Sire wanted to ensure you don’t have any trouble.”

Glauca sounds like a car radio got fucked by an alien.

Prompto immediately has to wonder what he looks like under that helmet but he’s definitely as big as Ardyn promised.

“Thank you for your service,” Noctis nods, giving him a once over. “Inside then. Let’s go.”

Inside the factory they enter from an upper level.

Instantly Prompto’s feet dig in, heart pounding, when he gets a glimpse of exactly how many vampires they’re dealing with here.

They’re packed in every corner, standing room only, all of them amassed with shiny cat-eyes gaping up at Noctis expectantly. Noctis seems to freeze, they all do. There’s so many of them. Prompto’s never seen so many vampires in one spot. They’re not all well connected or rich. They’re not all sired by someone special. They’re just… run of the mill vampires, fighting to get by probably, and they gape up at Noctis like he’s out of another world.

Noctis seems to take them in for a second, mystified perhaps that so many turned up, and Prompto thinks, for just a second, he can hear Noctis’ heart speed up.

Noctis purses his lips, hands on the railing, surveying them.

He seems totally shell shocked.

The tension is incessant, overbearing.

Prompto can’t stand it;

“That’s a lot of grandkids,” he jokes lamely.

Noctis whips back, meeting his eyes, and Prompto worries he’s said something he shouldn’t have but—

Noctis eases somehow, something darting in his eyes, and turns back.

“Let’s go down.” Noctis decides.

“I would not recommend that Majesty.” Glauca warns. “It would be difficult to protect you in the horde.”

“I know,” Noctis nods sombrely. “Let’s go down anyway.”

Gladio glances to Ignis, the pair of them stiff, but you can’t really argue with Noctis.

Noctis turns, hand sliding along the railing, and heads towards the stairs. There are vampires there too, every square foot of the factory seemingly packed, and Noctis tugs away the caution tape separating them.

The vampires assembled seem as frozen as he was just a second ago. Noctis steps closer and they shuffle apart to make room for him like dutiful sheep. When Noctis starts making his way down the stairs he touches the shoulder of the first vampire he passes and the vampire stiffens to attention like a rake in a storm. Noctis reaches for the others as he passes, hands gentle but willing, and like they’re under a spell the common vampires start to reach back for him tentatively.

As Noctis drifts down the stairs they squeeze his hands, they whisper what sounds like little prayers, and Noctis meets their eyes long enough to give little glances, tiny expressions…

Prompto exhales thickly.

The air in the factory shifts. It’s not tense anymore it’s…

Prompto was never religious as a human but he went to a church once, a Catholic mass with his grandmother one Christmas when he was very small. In a sudden rush he remembers the reverent hush of passing the Eucharist. He remembers the way all those people played nice just so they’d all get a turn to feel closer to the light and…

This is kind of like that.

The Church of Night?

Noctis drifts through the crowd, hearing their whispers, touching their hands and faces and shoulders and chest…

The vampires are docile, quiet, reverent.

It’s kind of beautiful in a surreal way.

Noctis moves through every corner of the factory, up every ramp, round every tank, and no one raises their voice above a whisper for what must be hours. Noctis does his best to get to each and every single vampire and they wait, spellbound, like they’re afraid to ruin the perfect serenity of the moment.

Prompto can hear fragments of their little whispers. It’s a mingle of complicated emotions. Most evidently never thought they’d get this chance and its no surprise that very few of them know what to say. One girl clasps Noctis’ hand in both of hers and gives this… Prompto can’t hear what she’s saying but its so passionate, visceral in this tiny little voice, and Noctis smiles weakly, a little sadly, and nods before drifting away. Somehow those tiny nods, that little bit of personal acknowledgement, seems to be enough right now for most people. Just the occasion to see Noctis is real seems to be reassuring.

They must stand there for hours. Prompto can feel the temperature in the factory shifting as the moon goes down and the sun starts waking up. He doesn’t ache or fidget like he used to as a human. He stands perfectly still, trying to bear up respectfully under the mood of the room, and slowly, slowly, Noctis starts to drift back towards them.

When Noctis is back up the stairs he turns back to the assembly.

“The sun is rising.” He tells them. “Go home. Be safe. Know I am with you, always.”

The vampires seem to lurch, like the spell’s been broken, and, very quietly, they start to trickle out. Some linger, still staring up at Noctis, and he smiles and they seem to gather themselves and start to leave too.

Prompto somehow feels exhausted when they leave the distillery. He sags in the car, emotionally wrought in a way he doesn’t understand. What must that have been like for Noctis? What must he have been feeling? Prompto wants to ask but Noctis is so utterly wrecked he falls asleep against Ignis’ side before the car’s even pulled out of the back drive around the side of the factory.

Gladio carries Noctis from the front of Ardyn’s estate into their current apartments. Noctis doesn’t stir a wink, head lulled into Gladio’s shoulder, and Gladio tucks the blankets around him leaving just a little room for Prompto to slide into the bed.

Prompto knows Ignis is proud of Noctis, proud of him combating his nerves and holding himself so tall, and Prompto is proud too but he wishes he understood better. What he said, when they arrived, did that make things better? Or worse? Why? He doesn’t understand but he’s too exhausted to chew on it and Noctis is so fast asleep Prompto won’t be getting answers from him any time soon.

Maybe this is what Ignis meant? About vampires sleeping as a mental health thing? Prompto’s exhaustion feels like a weight in his chest. He can barely move and no sooner has he tucked beside Noctis than he’s out cold.

* * *

Prompto doesn’t stir till the mid-afternoon. He feels lighter when he wakes up but still a little dizzied. Trotting barefoot out into the lounge he sniffs the air, ears open.

Ignis, Gladio and Noctis are still asleep but the fire is crackling and Ardyn is here.

“Hey,” Prompto croaks.

“I thought you’d sleep a whole year,” Ardyn chuckles, patting the spot beside him on the couch. He’s got a book but he doesn’t seem to be paying it much attention. “How was it?”

“It was…” Prompto sinks into the seat. “It was an experience, that’s for sure. Was it that intense in the old days?”

“I doubt it.” Ardyn murmurs, resting his open book on his chest. “Did you find it difficult?”

“Just emotional,” Prompto admits. “Noctis is our family but to those vampires he’s something else. More, I guess?”

“Both sides of it are important.” Ardyn assures.

“I just wish I knew how he’s feeling about the whole thing,” Prompto admits, sighing into his lap. “I can’t imagine all those people looking at me like that.”

“How do you imagine he’s feeling?” Ardyn presses.

“I don’t know…” Prompto paws at his neck. “I’d be overwhelmed, honoured but scared, I’d… But I’m a newborn and he’s the First. I’m sure it’s way more complicated than—”

“You know what really kills vampires, Sunshine?” Ardyn cuts him off gently.

“You mean literally or…?” Prompto frowns.

“They lose their humanity.” Ardyn explains. “It’s a cruel irony but we are supernatural creatures with human souls. When that human excitement, that hope, that thirst for more, dies then the body is quick to follow. These forms are machines which sustain themselves with blood, yes, but an empty eternity is a Hell unto itself.”

Prompto digests.

“Noctis may have never been human for all I know but he has a human soul. Of that I am certain.” Ardyn declares quietly. “It’s very easy to make him alien in your head but is that how he acts with you? When you treat him like what he is, is he happy?”

“No,” Prompto murmurs. “He’s way happier when he’s being a dumb teenager with me. Or… it seems that way? But, like….is that _really_ how he feels? He’s ancient. How can he still like games? Stupid things? _Me?_ ”

“Who does he have to act for?” Ardyn challenges. “Noctis doesn’t need to pretend to like anything. If you pretended to be one way that long you’d go mad. Sometimes, Prompto, you have to trust that Noctis is exactly as straight forward as he seems.”

“But how? _Why?_ ” Prompto digs a hand through his hair.

“You understand Noctis, perhaps better than any of us,” Ardyn assures. “You just need to trust your instincts. Why would he lie to you? What is there to gain from it?”

“But…” Prompto feels weak, shaky, his hand falling back into his lap. “But why me? Why does he put up with me? Why did he pick me?”

“Is it so hard to believe you’re likeable?” Ardyn snorts, patiently amused.

“I’m not special though,” Prompto laughs, sound hollow.

“Who says you have to be?” Ardyn nudges him. “People are very rarely special but some reach special achievements. I doubt anyone can say why you fit in with your coven, Prompto, but you do. Beautifully, so.”

“I just didn’t want to die behind a dumpster…”

“And I just didn’t want to be eaten by wolves,” Ardyn chuckles. “Whatever your motivation, give yourself a little credit here; you brought the First out of hiding, you played a crucial role in deescalating a blood feud, you orchestrated a political encounter which secured a truce in the war. Whatever you were, Prompto, did you ever stop to consider who you are _right now?_ ”

Prompto pauses, frown sliding slowly off his face.

“I…” He fumbles. “I’ve been a vampire for a year but, I guess, inside my head I’m still that stupid human kid…”

“For a long time I over thought it.” Ardyn admits. “I kept waiting for the mask to fall away, to find the real Noctis…” He laughs. “But sometimes…”

“It’s just what it is?” Prompto supposes.

“Yes,” Ardyn nod.

“You got over it though, right…?”

“Noctis is the First.” Ardyn nods. “But he’s also my ridiculous brat. Both those things are true. I just learned to balance them, eventually.”

“I don’t…” Prompto feels his fingers curling into little fists.

“Hmm?” Ardyn nudges gently.

“I’m not that homeless kid anymore, am I?” Prompto says, half to himself.

“No.” Ardyn shakes his head.

“He died.” Prompto finally tries to accept. “I’m a vampire. I’m—I’m a _damn_ good vampire.”

Ardyn laughs warmly. “Certainly fucked up my five year plan, you little shit.”

Prompto laughs, shoulders easing. “I should be more confident. I’ve done a lot of amazing things. Things other people couldn’t do or couldn’t do without me.”

“That’s true,” Ardyn nods diligently. “So….?”

“So?” Prompto laughs, head tilting.

“Well, normally, when I make headway with my rat’s nest head…” Ardyn rolls his hands. “I sense you’ve been struggling with doing or not doing _whatever_ because of this. So, what are you going to do now it’s resolved?”

“I’m…” Prompto puffs himself up. “I’m going to go talk to Noctis.”

“ _Oh?_ ” Ardyn hikes up one brow pointedly. “And whatever are you going to talk about?”

“Ardyn, I love you right now,” Prompto assures grin wide, “but that’s none of your business.”

Prompto says it with such delighted relish Ardyn clutches his chest, gargling, and slumps over like he’s just been slain by an arrow.

* * *

Noctis looks like sleeping beauty. Prompto wants to kiss him all over, not for the first time, and you know what? _Fuck it._

Prompto climbs onto Noctis, hauling himself up the mattress, and leaning down in his prowl starts peppering Noctis’ face with firm, warm, kisses. Noctis groans, groggy, but as Prompto kisses incessantly at his jaw and cheekbones Noctis starts to laugh softly. Noctis tries to bat him away, very gently, but Prompto keeps kissing.

“No escape for you,” Prompto declares. “You’re gonna take it, god damn it.”

Noctis snorts warmly, throwing his arms around Promtpo and crushing him close into his chest.

“What’s all this for?” Noctis slurs, still waking up.

“When we were in the factory, last night,” Prompto asks, “did what I say help or…?”

“It helped,” Noctis murmurs. “You were right; they’re my family. All of them. I’m not their King, I’m their Sire. I have to treat them like family for everything to be right in the world.”

“Good,” Prompto smiles, simmering as he kisses Noctis nose.

“You seem brighter, more like yourself,” Noctis smiles. “Are you going to tell me what’s been bothering you lately?”

“I’ve been thinking that….” Prompto tries to gather the right words. “I didn’t understand why you would like me, at all. But I’m starting to think that the _why_ part of it doesn’t matter so long as you _do_ like me?”

“Of course I like you,” Noctis snorts, kissing his nose back. “You’re amazing.”

“That’s what I want to talk about,” Prompto explains. “Because…. I’ve been realising things lately but I wasn’t sure how to put them into words and my brain was making all these stupid walls between me and my words.”

Noctis tilts his head a fraction against the pillows. “What have you been thinking then?”

“I…” Prompto hesitates but pushes past it hard, gathering his nerve to spit out; “I like you.”

“I like you too,” Noctis frowns. “Was that supposed to be a secret?”

“No, no, like…” Prompto laughs atop Noctis, their faces close. “I’m falling in love with you, that kind of like.”

Noctis blinks, groggy eyes sparkling sharply into focus.

“Really?” He whispers. “You’re sure?”

“I mean…” Prompto sits back, running a hand through his hair. “As sure as I can be on my own? I never dated as a human but… you put all these hot gooey feelings in my gut and I just wanna never stop kissing you. That’s enough to start, right?”

“Sounds like it,” Noctis murmurs.

“What do you think…?” Prompto hesitates.

He doesn’t know if Noctis has ever been involved with someone. Surely at his age he’s had relationships, maybe temporary but still real and intimate…? He doesn’t think Noctis has ever been Mated. He feels like he would know that. Noctis would’ve mentioned it, right?

“Noct…?” Prompto prods, “come on, say something….”

Noctis seems to be mapping every feature of his face.

Then Noctis’ face explodes into a wicked grin and he flips them. _Hard_.

Prompto oomphs roughly and—

“N-Noct—!” He laughs.

Noctis starts laying into him, kisses on every inch of his face, but a little wetter than is strictly necessary. He’s laughing, peppering Prompto with kisses, and then in a sudden rush Noctis binds their mouths together and kisses him firm and breathless.

Prompto chokes, a little stupid, but jerks one hand up to clench in Noctis’ hair almost instantly.

Never stop this, this is great. Thanks universe.

Noctis pulls back, the pair of them panting, and then they’re both laughing stupidly, locked nose to nose.

“That seemed interested?” Prompto supposes.

“I like you a lot, Prompto.” Noctis slumps into him, burying his face against his neck. “Sometimes I get so lost in my head but you can always reach me, even when I go there. You understand. I don’t know how you do but you always do.”

“I know turning me was kind of a happy accident but I’m glad it happened.” Prompto whispers, curling his arms around Noctis.

“I don’t think I would’ve turned you without your permission,” Noctis admits, “but I think that’s just because I didn’t want you to change. I didn’t want to lose any part of you.”

“I mean,” Prompto laughs, “I feel like we liked each other even more after I became a vampire?”

“No, I always liked you a lot,” Noctis insists. “Don’t you remember? After Regis visited I was so sad. I thought I’d sleep for a decade. I just didn’t want to deal with it. I felt so useless and defeated. I felt like nothing I did would help but you… You knew just what to do somehow. Even though you were human.”

“You mean that time I played the piano?” Prompto remembers suddenly.

“Yeah.” Noctis nods into his chest. “I can’t explain it. You just make me feel like everything will be okay even when everything seems like it won’t.”

Prompto squeezes him close, feeling a stupid surge of pride and an even bigger wave of relief.

“I…” Prompto laughs, running his hand through Noctis’ hair with an embarrassed flush. “I actually went, all sneaky, to talk to Verstael about how Mating and stuff works.”

“Pft,” Noctis snorts, lifting his head. “You could’ve just asked me.”

“My head was being stupid and, besides, I would’ve been too mortified.” Prompto admits.

“What did Verstael say?” Noctis asks, head titling into Prompto’s hand as the blonde toys with his bangs.

“He said not to rush into anything, to just try human stuff for a while first,” Prompto murmurs.

“Hmm, I’ve never Mated anyone,” Noctis confirms. “We probably shouldn’t rush into that but… I want to Mate you, okay? Don’t doubt that. I just don’t wanna hurry.”

Prompto bites his lip to restrain his simmering delight.

Even if they won’t rush into it. It still gives him such joy to hear it.

“You’ve done human stuff though?” Prompto supposes.

“Yeah,” Noctis nods. “Have you?”

“Not really,” Prompto admits. “You’ll have to show me.”

Noctis’ grin is mischievous and satisfied.

“Don’t look so excited!” Prompto laughs, shoving his shoulder.

“Can’t help it,” Noctis grins.

“Should we…” Prompto’s voice becomes a little quieter for a second, a vampire whisper. “Should we keep it quiet for a little while? Do you think…?”

Noctis frowns, considering that.

“I don’t care if Ignis and Gladio know,” he echoes Prompto’s thoughts, “but we’re going to be around a lot of strangers till we go back to America. I don’t want to make you a target until we’re ready. So, yeah, maybe we should be a little quiet about it for now. Just till we know what we want to say to everyone, more than anything, really.”

“Right,” Prompto nods. “I think that’s smart.”

“You might have to remind me not to kiss you,” Noctis posits seriously.

Prompto grins; “I can’t promise to be good at that.”

“Good,” Noctis nods curtly.

“You know…” Prompto murmurs, “a lot of people probably don’t like me already. I mean, people were pretty passionate about the war and I’m sure some people profited off it, and those people probably think the truce is my fault.”

“It is in a lot of ways,” Noctis shrugs. “But those feelings will soften. I think. In the same way a lot of people must be angry at me for not stepping in to stop it sooner.”

“We should really be careful then,” Prompto nods.

“We will be,” Noctis promises, kissing his nose.

Prompto tugs him down into a slower, softer, kiss.

His toes curl so hard and he feels so safe.

God, Prompto could get used to that…


	4. Chapter 4

The following morning Ardyn moves them all to outer Vienna in a convoy. Cars are coming from the airport, packed with vampires from Regis’ clan, and Ardyn’s own clan members are assembling from across the Old World.

Prompto watches, tucked between his coven members, as Ardyn and Verstael formally welcome Regis and Gilgamesh. It’s a little tense, that was always going to be the case, but for now it’s way better than the other options.

“Ardyn and I would like to personally welcome you to our Kingdom,” Verstael declares, Ardyn right beside him almost defensively. “We are both excitedly looking forward to the performances of your masters and warriors. Here’s to a clean competition.”

“Thank you,” Regis nods, walking stick assembled under his hands. “But I’m sure Ardyn could speak for himself if he wanted to.”

“He could,” Verstael acknowledges with that effortlessly political smile, letting the _‘if he wanted to_ ’ dangle in the air unspoken.

It’s so petty.

Ardyn has, technically, welcomed Regis and Gilgamesh to the Old World. He’s done the ‘ _polite_ ’ thing practically even if he hasn’t done it sincerely. Mates are entitled to speak on behalf of each other, if nothing else, but the fact Ardyn is standing right there, watching, refusing to welcome Regis himself, refusing to speak the words out loud, speaks literal volumes both about Ardyn’s feelings and his enduring pettiness.

Noctis sighs tightly next to Prompto.

Prompto drops his hand and squeezes his fingers with a sympathetic smile.

It’s not perfect by any means but they are on the same platform not actively trying to kill each other, that’s progress.

“We look forward to proving our enduring strength.” Gilgamesh adds eventually after a beat of tense silence. “Surely we should not delay a moment longer in moving to the tournament grounds?”

“Absolutely,” Verstael nods. “If you and your retinue will follow we have made room for everyone on the train we will be taking to Romania. From there we will have to make a short hike but our clan have already assembled the particulars in the location and are awaiting us.”

“Let us make the journey then.” Gilgamesh nods. “We thank you in advance for your hospitality.”

Ardyn is in a bind. Regis’ clan extended the olive branch technically. If Ardyn starts aggression back up again without a catalyst he’s purely the aggressor and Prompto can’t imagine that’d be popular with common vampires in Ardyn’s clan who are just trying to live their lives.

That said…?

Ardyn will probably look for a catalyst.

Maybe not this time, maybe not while he’s trying to entice Noctis to move to Europe permanently, but one day soon.

Ardyn hasn’t forgotten and Prompto doubts he’s really forgiven anything.

It’s kind of sad, in a way, Ardyn and Somnus were human brothers before they were vampire brothers. Surely Ardyn loved him on some level? Does he still loathe him so much he’d ruin all his descendants thousands of years later? Sure, what Somnus did was wrong and seemingly unprovoked, but Regis didn’t hurt anyone. It just seems so crazy to Prompto.

Then again if someone hurt Noctis? Or Ignis? Or Gladio?

Yeah, Prompto’s not sure he could ever forgive them either.

As they move from the platform into the train carriages Prompto has to ask; “okay, but, why a train?”

“Planes aren’t always easier in places like this,” Noctis shrugs. “It’ll actually be quicker to take the train. Less scrutiny too. Trust me, it’ll be fun.”

“Train’s are certainly a more dignified mode of transportation than commercial air planes.” Ignis rues. “Planes are so cramped when you get more than a few people. Ridiculous.”

“So, in summary?” Gladio throws his arm around Prompto. “Noct and Iggy are train snobs.”

“Duly noted.” Prompto nods.

“Rude!” Noctis huffs.

Ardyn has divided the vampires into carriages according to rank. Prompto gets to sit in the luxury carriage with Noctis and the other Chief Sires but he’s sure the further down the train you go the more crowded and rowdy it probably gets.

This is, Prompto realises, probably the first time in a long time that vampires from both clans have an occasion to peacefully mingle and interact. Violence outside the arena is against tournament rules so if anyone’s serious about competing they won’t ruin their chance by starting a fight in the carriages but that doesn’t mean there won’t be sniping. Gods, Prompto just hopes everyone can hold their heads.

The luxury carriage is really very glamorous. Rich textures, glassware, luxurious couches, little side tables fastened into the metal siding so they don’t shift with the train…

Prompto wants to settle but the trip is only three hours and he suspects everyone will want to socialise. Noctis gets drawn into conversation with Regis and Ardyn, tense and head ache inducing, so Prompto drifts towards Gladio near the bar which is serving all manner of bloody concoctions.

“So, Glauca,” Nyx leans into the bar. “Looks like we’ll be fighting with a referee this time.”

“I look forward to it.” Glauca is out of his armour today but even without it he’s huge and stern in the red leather of his clan. “Given how many times I’ve smashed it it’s a wonder your face is still so pretty.”

“Some of us are just luckier than others that way.” Nyx smirks pointedly.

Prompto laughs nervously.

“Drink Highness?” Nyx offers readily.

“Yes, please.” Prompto thinks he’s going to need it. “No liquor though.”

“Oh you’re no fun,” Nyx pouts, but he dutifully flags down the bartender to get Prompto a drink without any genuine resistance. “I hear you’re competing Gladiolus?”

“Yes,” Gladio answers, and he looks much more at home with these big, hulking, vampires than Prompto. “Though I think I’ll stick to the sword fighting this time. You two sound like you’re going full gladiator?”

“Oh always,” Nyx nods. “I’m better with daggers than swords anyway and Glauca’s got a face you just yearn to punch, ya know?”

“I’m sure they understand, Ulric, they’ve been listening to you talk.” Glauca replies, sipping coolly.

“I thought there were age brackets?” Gladio counters. “The strength discrepancies are pretty extreme otherwise. Glauca’s got a good four hundred years on you, Ulric.”

“There are age brackets, Highness,” Glauca assures, “but you can enter a fighting pool without those restrictions if you’re feeling brave.”

“Yeah, Gilgamesh is entering the unrestricted sword fighting, just if, you know, you really wanna show us how good you are.” Nyx grins.

“Oh really?” Gladio looks far too interested in that for his own good.

“Just don’t get maimed,” Prompto tells Gladio weakly, “arms take a long time to grow back.”

“Pft,” Gladio dismisses stubbornly, “I’ll be fine.”

No one else seems convinced.

Prompto snorts, leaving the bruisers to gossip, trailing back toward the other end of the carriage.

Ignis has fallen into a rather dangerous conversation of his own between Verstael and Loqi. Ignis looks frankly glad to see Prompto when he arrives and readily pulls the little blonde down to join him.

“Prompto, you’ll know,” Verstael nudges him. “Ignis here tells us he’s an apt chef but he expects me to believe, in five hundred years, he’s never pioneered a culinary trend. Surely he’s to credit for _something?_ ”

“Oh, uh…” Prompto laughs nervously.

Ignis meets his eyes desperately. Silently begging Prompto not to bring the dreaded potato chips into this. Prompto considers Verstael, Loqi, and Ignis.

He does live with Ignis.

“Ignis popularised the sandwich.” Prompto lies fluidly, quickly taking a sip of his drink to try and stifle any nervous giggling.

“That was you?” Loqi frowns.

“Modesty is inane,” Verstael sighs, slouching back. He seems sated now he feels like he’s gotten the blood he wanted. “We can’t appear in human history books so you might as well brag to other vampires.” 

“Perhaps, yes,” Ignis murmurs politely, squeezing Prompto’s waist in a vaguely concealed thanks. “But there’s a difference between sandwiches and penicillin, your Grace.”

“I’d argue humans eat more sandwiches,” Loqi snorts.

“There’s certainly something to that,” Verstael nods, lounging grandly. “Are you two going to bet?”

“Huh? Oh! No, probably not.” Prompto assures.

“You can,” Verstael assures, “that’s not meant to be a judgement of any sort.”

“Don’t,” Loqi urges them. “They’re up to something. Ardyn and Verstael are going to swindle us all somehow.”

“What an awfully cruel rumour,” Verstael huffs.

“Actually…” Prompto frowns. “Ardyn said something about betting against us in… Ignis, do you remember what it was?”

“Uh,” Ignis frowns, “no, actually? One of the contests Gladio isn’t in, I remember that but…. Yes, what was it?”

“Well I wouldn’t know, I wasn’t there,” Verstael answers innocently.

“You’re not supposed to rig the contests.” Loqi chides his sire.

“We haven’t rigged anything.” Verstael huffs, nose up stubbornly.

“Then what’re you planning?” Loqi pesters. “Cause I know it’s something.”

“You make awful accusations of me.” Verstael sighs.

“Because I know you.” Loqi snorts.

“Then you should be clever enough to figure it out.”

“Regardless, I’m smart enough not to fall into your trap.” Loqi declares.

“Just because you don’t play doesn’t mean you win.” Verstael sips.

“Depends on the game,” Ignis supposes.

“Sometimes,” Verstael concedes.

“If you’ll excuse me,” Prompto murmurs, slipping back up.

In a tight little ring the upper echelons are involved in a dangerous pursuit; Ardyn’s pulled out a deck of cards. Prompto really better get in on that before something disastrous happens.

“Hey, what’s happening?” Prompto greets, sinking into a seat next to Noctis.

“Playing Cheat.” Noctis explains over his hand of cards.

“Oh?” Prompto rues. “All of you?”

“Not me,” Gilgamesh murmurs. “I’m sane.”

“So just…” Prompto glances around the booth; Regis, Ardyn, and Noctis. Oh fuck.

It quickly becomes apparently Regis is an awful liar. Almost every time Arydn calls ‘ _Bluff’_ Regis is revealed to have been faking his call and has to take up the pile. It’s starting to become ridiculous. That said the pile is sizeable when Ardyn announces, smugly;

“Sevens of hearts.” 

“Bluff.” Noctis speaks up finally.

Ardyn pauses. He has one card left.

“You sure about that Starlight?” He raises one brow.

“Don’t stall. Show us the card, Ardyn.” Noctis orders certainly.

Ardyn’s expression falters, all at once, morphing into a huff as he flips over the card to reveal a two.

Noctis grins.

Grumbling, Ardyn takes up the whole pile.

“You wanna play, Prom?” Noctis offers.

“Yes, go on,” Ardyn urges. “Let’s see how clever you are.”

“Please, take my spot,” Regis offers. “This seems not to be my game.”

“Evidently,” Ardyn purrs. “Here, Prompto, we’ll reshuffle.”

“Oh, yeah, sure.” Prompto permits.

He’s really glad there’s nothing on the line because a game against Ardyn and Noctis sounds like a surefire way to get himself in trouble.

For the first few turns Prompto doesn’t call bluff once. He doesn’t just want to guess. He’s not sure what his tells are, exactly, but he’s never thought of himself as an exceptionally good liar. Noctis somehow catches him putting down a four he claims is a two and Prompto takes up the cards diligently.

Prompto starts trying to catalogue every expression, every tonal shift. He can’t keep all that info on Noctis and Ardyn at once so he starts with Ardyn. Ardyn plays everything casual, nonchalant, playful but….

“Four,” Ardyn lays down a card.

There’s something just…

Prompto frowns. Ardyn’s tone never seems to shift. He seems… so perfectly steady, so consistent…

“Bluff,” Prompto calls.

Noctis and Ardyn exchange a look.

“You sure?” Ardyn teases.

Prompto nods, not really sure.

Ardyn sighs at reveals the eight. “Got me,” he declares, seemingly heartbroken as he takes up the pile of cards.

Prompto watches, a few more turns, and then, seemingly without impetus, calls again;

“Bluff.”

“Again?” Ardyn clutches his chest. “Prompto you’ve got it out for me.”

“Well show us the card then,” Prompto presses.

Sure enough, Ardyn’s lying and Ardyn takes up the whole pile.

Prompto frowns.

“You figured it out yet?” Noctis nudges him with his elbow. “His tell?”

“I think…” Prompto tries to find the words.

Regis looks intrigued, obviously curious as he couldn’t seem to master it.

“I don’t think he has a tell, necessarily,” Prompto admits. “I think he’s lying every single turn.”

“ _Oh!_ ” Ardyn cries, seemingly offended. “Prompto!”

“Is he wrong?” Noctis smirks widely.

“Well, I didn’t say he was _wrong_ …” Ardyn admits.

“It’s certainly one way to keep your poker face unbreakably consistent,” Noctis nods, “but once you know he’s lying, even when he doesn’t have to, it becomes incredibly easy to rail him.”

“Ugh,” Ardyn sighs, “there’ll be no living with you two after this. Though, I wonder if you can pick Noctis’ tell?”

“We ought to find out,” Regis encourages, “a little one on one match?”

“I bet you Noctis knows my signals,” Prompto laughs. “I’d probably lose pretty bad.”

“So you don’t want to play?” Noctis supposes.

“No, I’ll play.” Prompto decides. “Let’s do it. Ardyn, shuffle?”

“With pleasure,” Ardyn takes the cards, working them like a card shark.

The deck is split between them and the round starts.

For the first few turns Prompto can’t see anything shift in Noctis. He picks his cards carefully, he declares them with unwavering confidence, he doesn’t seem to falter for a second. Much like Ardyn. Is Noctis lying every round too? No, that doesn’t sound like something he’d do. Not Noctis.

Is Noctis genuinely being honest…?

Prompto reads his cards carefully. The deck’s only been split two ways. He has a pair of twos and they’ve already called that rank once. It’s very unlikely Noctis has another two if he’s being honest.

So Prompto waits.

Ardyn and Regis watch keenly, eyes darting.

“Two,” Noctis calls again.

Prompto frowns.

There’s something…

It’s not very obvious but Noctis has lost some note of his certainty. He makes eye contact, unflinching, but that steady gaze seems a defensive front.

“Bluff.” Prompto calls.

Regis and Ardyn are silent, watching Noctis carefully.

Noctis laughs, slumping, and flips over his card.

A five.

Prompto cheers, delighted.

“Good job!” Regis claps.

“Yes, see, you have to count cards with Noctis.” Ardyn snorts. “He tells the truth until the last possible second.”

“I figured that out,” Prompto laughs.

“Lying doesn’t come naturally to me,” Noctis shrugs. “Do you know what your tell is, Prom?”

“No, honestly.” Prompto admits.

“Good, let’s keep it that way,” Noctis decided playfully. “I’ve got to have some kind of trump card.”

“Hey!” Prompto whines, amused despite himself. 

* * *

When the train pulls up to the station in Romania it’s a short drive and then a steep upward hike into the mountains. Prompto does his best but he finds himself stalling in a tree halfway up the mountain, catching his breath. Loqi lands next to him.

“This hiking is the fucking worst.” Loqi announces. “Those ancient assholes make it look easy.”

“I know!” Prompto moans sympathetically. “Go slow with me? We’ll be late buddies.”

“Yeah, for sure.” Loqi offers his hand to help Prompto straighten up on the branch.

“Hey,” Prompto asks in a murmur, “is your guy going to be around for the tournament?”

“He’s definitely not invited.” Loqi snorts absently. “He wouldn’t be welcome.”

“Sounds very exciting,” Prompto giggles.

“Whatever,” Loqi rolls his eyes, “come on. Before the sun sets.”

Prompto told Noctis and the others to go ahead without him. There’s plenty of vampires on the mountain so he’s not exactly alone. Besides, he would feel totally embarrassed if Gilgamesh or someone carried him. That was cool when he was a week old hiking in Mojave but when he’s a year old? And at a public function? Prompto would be redder than a tomato. It’d be so humiliating. So he’ll go slow with the other younglings.

He and Loqi makes their way up the mountain following the scent of blood and the sound of revelry. Prompto’s not sure what to expect but when they reach a snowy plateau high up in the Carpathians they find a carefully constructed tent city. Prompto imagines this is what it looked like in the middle ages when royals went on holiday. It’s…. deceptively simple but definitely grand. As they walk through the temporary structures Prompto finds stalls offering all manner of things and services. He’s pretty sure he even passes a vampire brothel tent.

Next they pass some sturdy looking arenas with seating and then, finally, they come to the farthest corner where the nesting tents have been set up for the royals and sires. It’s definitely the most defensible corner if they need to ward off any trouble and its also tucked back against the shelving of the mountain so the wind can only hit them from one angle. Prompto doesn’t feel the cold so much anymore but wind is annoying.

There are fires and lanterns, not a flood light in sight, and when they enter into an inner circle between a few high-ranking tents Prompto finds some of the first arrivals have started the night off by spit roasting a _bear_. 

Prompto laughs, thoroughly amused by the absurdity of it.

Ignis is waiting for him when he and Loqi traipse into the grove.

“Here Prompto,” Ignis offers.

Prompto whistles, letting Ignis wrap a thick cloak around him.

“Where’d you get these?” He rues, feeling how bone soakingly warm the fabric is, how smooth and well crafted.

“The night markets.” Ignis smiles. “Had enough for all of us. The seamstress has been making them for a long time.”

“I can tell,” Prompto murmurs, hugging himself.

“Thirsty, darling?” Ignis supposes.

“A little,” Prompto admits.

“Come, we’ll get you and drink and then you can try bear. Gladio is very excited.”

“I bet,” Prompto laughs. “Catch ya later Loqi?”

“Yeah,” Loqi waves, “I’ll see you in the morning probably.”

Prompto waves, letting Ignis take his other arm and lead him off.

Gladio and Noctis are waiting around the fire and it only takes a moment to call over another lower ranking vampire to give them a nice, warm, cup of blood.

Prompto stands there, legs aching just a fraction, all cloaked in the Carpathians mountains of Romania with his mug of steaming blood and…

“Not gonna lie,” Prompto laughs. “I have never felt more like a vampire than right this second.”

Noctis laughs, clinking their mugs. “You’re gonna love the tent then.”

“We all together?” Prompto asks.

“Gladio and I have a tent of our own to share,” Ignis reveals, “you’ve been placed with Noctis this time.”

“You’re still a fledgling,” Noctis murmurs, “it’s mostly a security thing to keep you safe.”

“I don’t mind!” Prompto promises. “Cause I bet you anything Noctis has the biggest, comfiest, tent in the camp.”

“However did you know?” Ignis scoffs.

“Does that mean Loqi’s in with Verstael and Ardyn too?” Prompto winces. He can imagine that turning into a domestic altercation almost instantly.

“Nah, I think Ardyn’s put Verstael with himself and Loqi with Glauca.” Noctis grunts. “We could do the same but I figure there’s no point me having a whole tent to myself.”

“You’d get lonely,” Prompto teases.

“Yeah! Of course!” Noctis declares shamelessly, puffing up in his cloak.

“I’m so excited for everything tomorrow.” Prompto revels. “You feeling ready, Gladio?”

“As ready as I’m ever going to be,” Gladio grunts. “I’m going to enter the unrestricted class I’ve decided.”

“Sounds like madness.” Ignis tuts.

“I think Gladio can do it.” Noctis insists.

“I think, regardless, Gladio won’t listen to sense on the matter.” Ignis huffs.

“Have a little faith, Iggy,” Gladio slaps his back between the shoulder blades.

“I would rather not risk your health unnecessarily.”

“It’s just a contest. It’s not an actual battle.” Gladio shrugs.

“Who wants bear?” Ardyn calls over the squabble.

“Me!” Noctis announces eagerly.

Bears turns out to be kind of like venison but a little coarse and a very rich red. It’s bold, meaty. Prompto doesn’t think he could eat it every day but there’s something more filling lodged in the meat than deer. Noctis licks his fingers, Gladio’s got a hunk on bone, and Ignis is taking notes in his phone. It’s a feast of blood and bear. Kind of morbid but also a little death metal which is kind of hot.

Honestly after the hike up Prompto’s already kind of exhausted and after a day of tense socialising he’s not looking forward to chatting much after dinner either. Luckily for him Noctis seems to have a similar idea.

“You wanna crash, Prom?” Noctis offers, squeezing his hand.

“Gods, yes.” Prompto admits.

“Me too,” Noctis agrees. “Let’s turn in.”

“Right,” Prompto sags willingly.

“See you in the morning guys,” Gladio salutes.

“Sweet dreams,” Ignis smiles.

Noctis’ tent, sure enough, is befitting the King of the Vampires. It’s kind of like a time capsule in some ways; pelts, lanterns… very medieval but like the best possible version of that. Clean and actually comfortable.

“Bet our cellphones don’t work out here for shit,” Prompto supposes, collapsing, cloak and all, into the pelt pile.

“No King’s Knight,” Noctis agrees joining him in the mound of warm fur. “Hey, do you genuinely want to sleep…?”

“Depends,” Prompto blinks, “what’s the alternative?”

“Well…” Noctis rolls over to him, arm sliding around his waist. “Something equally human but way more fun.”

Prompto feels his eyes widen, just a fraction, before a sheepish grin cracks his features.

“Yeah…?” He murmurs. “This is a very ancient place to, how the kids say, _get giggy with it_.”

“I think it’s a good place to make the beast with two backs, to carry out assault with a friendly weapon, to go cave diving, to do a little horizontal tango, to—”

“Oh my god!” Prompto heaves with giggles, clutching his face. “ _Stop!_ ”

“I’ve got over three thousand years of euphemisms here.” Noctis warns. “You don’t want to dig up the sand crab? Taste the mystery meat? Do the four legged foxtrot?—”

Prompto can’t breathe, he’s laughing too hard, he settles for whacking Noctis repeatedly and tossing onto his side to try and catch his breath.

“Oh fuck…” Prompto wheezes.

“Come back,” Noctis laughs, pulling Prompto back towards him. “Give me a kiss and I’ll suspend your language lesson for the evening.”

“ _Holy_ —” Prompto laughs harder. “How many does Gladio know?”

Noctis burst into cackles. “Given all the porn he writes? He’s got to know at least six thousand elaborate, round about, ways to ask for sex.” 

“Gods—” Prompto tries to compose himself through tears. “Shut up. Jesus, shut up and kiss me. Before I lose it again.”

Noctis sniggers but complies.

Noctis mouth is warm and firm. Prompto drags his hands into Noctis’ hair, half laughing, but the pressure of his mouth soothes some of the giggling into purring. Noctis feels as safe as he ever did. Friendly, familiar, playful, like _home_. Prompto pulls his weight down harder into his chest, kisses sloppier by the second as he forgets looking cool in favour of indulging his own desperate neediness.

Noctis’ tongue sinks into his mouth first and Prompto curls around it, kind of unsure, but when he dips his tongue into Noctis’ mouth the other sucks, just so, and that’s really hot.

Prompto pushes, trying to get Noctis cloak off, and Noctis has to hush him and sit back for a second to remove it. Prompto’s hands are there, reaching, grabbing, to pull him right back down and then Prompto’s feeling his collar bone and lifting up his hem in search of his rib cage.

“Easy Prom,” Noctis laughs, “we’ve got all night.”

“No,” Prompto whines, “I need to touch more of you, _right now_. Those are the facts.”

“Alright, geeze,” Noctis teases theatrically, nipping his lips. “But maybe I wanna touch some of you too?”

“Then help me get this shirt off,” Prompto orders, arching his back.

“With pleasure,” Noctis promises, dipping down to kiss Prompto’s neck while he savages his buttons.

Prompto let’s his eyes close.

He likes Noctis’ mouth there. It feels gut clenching and _good_. Sure, last time Noctis’ mouth was suctioned against his neck he killed him but…

Gods, and Prompto can feel himself salivating gently. Nothing’s ever tasted like Noctis’ blood. Nothing’s ever come close. Prompto wants to feel it in his mouth again. Just a little. He bites back a moan, Noctis’ finally opening his shirt and dragging his nails down his naked sides…

It would be stupid to ask for that now.

They’ve barely started. They haven’t even had sex. Prompto’s never had sex. It’s stupid. He shouldn’t be salivating right now. He has to curtail that very vampiric desire. He’s about to get laid. He doesn’t need to do _that_ too.

Noctis’ kisses sate him, just a little, but the taste isn’t as real.

Maybe…

Prompto pushes Noctis back onto the pelts and starts kissing down his body.

“Prom—” Noctis sounds a little breathless as Prompto wrestles with his pants. “You don’t have to—”

“Shh,” Prompto orders, “I want to.”


	5. Chapter 5

Prompto floats in happy haze of endorphins. He’s sprawled, naked and used, on the pelts. He’s not sure if human sex feels that good but he seriously doubts it. He and Noctis can do things with their bodies that are literally superhuman so…

And, let’s just say, not technically needing to breathe means Prompto is instantly like four times better at blow jobs than he has any right to be.

Prompto’s hunger hasn’t abated.

It’s not even really _hunger_ , it’s just this aching need to be closer, to go further….

He just wants Noctis everywhere.

Noctis is lulled beside him, hand on his stomach, looking dazed.

Not needing to sleep? Another great improvement to human sexuality, can Prompto just say, because aching for Noctis like he is he’d do it another six times if he could right now.

Vampires seem to have a shorter refractory period too so that’s A+ design right there.

Yeah, in conclusion, Prompto _really_ likes sex. 

He slumps his head to one side, facing Noctis, and Noctis smiles at him across his shoulder.

Prompto beams.

Noctis kissed him. Noctis likes him.

Noctis did naughty, ungodly, things to him at all hours of the night.

“Is it that good with a human?” Prompto slurs.

“Like vampire-human coupling?” Noctis blinks lazily. “Not really, they’re too fragile. Not as flexible either. Vampire-vampire is way hotter.”

“Agreed,” Prompto sighs, glancing lazily back at the ceiling. “Do we have time for another round?”

“Everyone’s starting to stir,” Noctis murmurs, “we probably should get ready too.”

“I’m amazed anyone ever gets anything done around here.” Prompto laughs weakly. “If you told me vampire sex was that good I would’ve just started doing that full time. Fuck everything else.”

“I mean…” Noctis laughs. “I’ve had some pretty prolonged _siesta-fiestas_ if you know what I mean.”

“Hmm…” Prompto purrs. “Same tonight?”

“I won’t be thinking about anything else all day.” Noctis promises, fishing up his limp knuckles to kiss them.

Is it too early to say ‘ _I love you’_? Are vampires weird about that too?

Prompto just closes his eyes for a second.

Noctis helps him up, they wash off with some water and a couple of towels, and finding their transported luggage get changed back into their finery. Noctis steals a few more kisses and Prompto has trouble letting him go. He’s wanted to kiss Noctis for so many months. He doesn’t want to stop for even a second. But life keeps trudging on and Prompto can’t shirk it.

Responsibilities suck.

And not, like, the fun kind of suck either.

Outside the tent its snowed over night but lower raking vampires have kept the bonfires going and between the sun and the glistening snow all the pretty-perfect vampires seem to glow unnaturally in the light.

Ignis and Gladio are waiting for them. Gladio’s all geared up, sword strapped onto his back, and Ignis still doesn’t look convinced.

“Swords today,” Noctis supposes.

“Ahuh,” Gladio grins. “You gonna be watching from your padded podium?”

“I’ll be rooting for you,” Noctis promises.

Gladio softens, just slightly.

“I’m going to shop.” Ignis announces.

“You’ll miss my first match.” Gladio warns.

“I’ll watch the finale.” Ignis promises.

“What if I don’t make the finale?” Gladio challenges.

“You better then,” Ignis folds his arms stubbornly.

Gladio laughs. “Is that your idea of a pep talk?”

“Perhaps.”

“Well then I’ll see you in the final this afternoon,” Gladio promises. “Later.”

“What about you, Prom?” Noctis presses. “What’s your plan?”

“I might go with Ignis into the markets,” Prompto decides. “Then I’ll join you on the podium later.”

“Sounds good,” Noctis waves them off.

The markets are extensive. It’s amazing how skilled you can become in a particular craft after just a few decades honing the techniques. After a hundred years? Two? It’s _obscene_.

There are an array of blood concoctions for sale; blood wines, spiced blends, stews, jellies, shaved ice style frozen blood, even Romanian bats that have been roasted and basted in cow’s blood the whole time. Most of these things Prompto wouldn’t find appealing were he not a vampire but, as he is, he’s very tempted. It’s amazing the variety of bloods too; human, yes, but also different types of human, cow, horse, bear, deer, sheep… the list goes on and on.

There are specialty printed cookbooks for Ignis, seamstresses that have been making a particular style of dress or cloak for generations, weavers, milliners, cobblers, musicians, instruments, books found, saved and written fresh, CDs with vampire music, jewellers… 

Prompto’s never been short on cash since he turned but some of these things are expensive even for him. Then again; these things are made for vampires. They’re made to last. To be comfortable with much greater precision and durable under much greater stress.

“Are those computers?” Prompto lurches.

“Yes, there’s a tech market,” Ignis nods. “Do you want to go look? I’m going to haggle a little. I’ll come get you after, if you like?”

“Yeah!” Prompto sizzles, bustling over the divide to the new gaggle of stalls and tents.

All the tech is custom built. Some of it with custom made and specially wired parts. Prompto is kind of mystified. There are laptops with ridiculous security, security cameras that can pick up vampire movements, cameras calibrated to lower body temperatures…

It’s almost dangerous.

But then….

Are those cameras?

Prompto’s at the stall perhaps a little too fast but he can’t hide his shivering excitement.

“Hey, how can I help?”

Prompto is startled to find the stall owner is—

“You’re human!” Prompto fumbles.

“Yeah there’s a handful of us up here,” the man drawls. “Dino, by the way, how ya doing?”

“I thought…” Prompto gathers himself, shaking the man’s hand. “Prompto, nice to meet you.”

“Prom--?” Dino catches himself a lot smoother. “Oh right! Apologies Highness, I didn’t realise who I was talking to. How can I help today?”

“You make cameras for vampires?” Prompto is still trying to digest.

“Well, we make all sorts of stuff,” Dino explains, “my tech guy does anyway. Most folks don’t need the specs we deal with, let alone can afford the price, but you guys are a growing market.”

“So…” Prompto laughs. “How did you even find out vampires are real? Let alone start selling to them?”

“Oh there’s a whole dark-web, conspiracy, market.” Dino shrugs. “Most humans try hunting the supernatural and die grizzly deaths. But there are some of us, smarter sorts, who see investment opportunities. You’d be surprised how many powerful people know you’re real, Highness.”

“There’s a big supernatural market?” Prompto rues.

“Quite, but I prefer vampires honestly.” Dino grunts. “Most large werewolf packs are practically Amish and Fae folk are all either fucking hippies or extreme isolationists, never mind they’re dying out.” 

“Wow, I…” Prompto laughs. “Sorry, I just got turned a year ago, so this is all still new.” 

“No trouble,” Dino assures. “You like cameras?”

“Love em.” Prompto nods. “But most commercial brands don’t really capture the depth I can see with my new eyes, ya know?”

“Well, do I have the camera for you!” Dino cries, opening some padded cases to show Prompto a couple of models. “Try this guy,” he nudges a box towards Prompto, “handheld. Little heavy for humans but quite manageable for vampires. Fucking huge sensors; we’re talking crisp images in exceptionally low lighting. High quality lens, of course, and manual focus.”

“What’s shutter lag like?” Prompto turns it over in his hands, feeling it.

“Ah, good question,” Dino grins. “Slower start up than you might be used to. Tech limitation. But we’re talking six shots per second which beats most sports photography in the human world by three frames.”

“SD cards?” Prompto opens the slot.

“SDXC storage card which holds a ass-kicking two terabytes.” 

Prompto wheezes. “I think I just came a little.”

Dino cackles. “Interested then?”

“Do you take card?” Prompto answers immediately.

“It’ll set you back nine grand, but I suppose that’s no issue?”

“That’s a bargain.” Prompto delights. “You make more like this?”

“My tech guy does,” Dino sets up a gnarly looking card reader that’s obviously been rigged for extreme wilderness. Then again Dino probably makes these hikes regularly.

“Can I get your card? Would you ship to the states?”

“Yes and yes, your Highness.” Dino flips out a business card smoothly.

Dino takes Prompto’s money, seals up the carry case with the camera equipment and presents Prompto with his new baby like it’s no big deal.

Ignis just raises a single eyebrow when Prompto comes floating back over to him, jittery with delight.

“Let me guess,” Ignis drawls, “you found something nice?”

“I didn’t realise there was a tech market!” Prompto beams. “You won’t believe the deal I got!”

“I suspect I’ve created a monster,” Ignis chuckles.

Prompto just squeals and bounces a little, still riding the high, and Ignis is nothing if not indulgent with him.

* * *

After a few hours Ignis has a few more business cards for a few more masters who are willing to ship to them and handful of purchases. Prompto has his camera and has eaten two basted bats and a cup of shaved ice style blood. That said Prompto’s interest in the market it starting to wane a little so Ignis agrees to walk him to the arena so he can watch the tournament matches with Noctis.

There are stands that have been assembled but Noctis and the Chief Sires are in a raised kind of platform seating overlooking the proceedings. Prompto says goodbye to Ignis at the stairs and is waved up by a vampire guard.

The podium is comfortable, as is to be expected.

Ardyn’s evidently not let Verstael out of sight all day, one arm protectively locked around his middle, and Regis is sitting back with an empty seat beside him probably reserved for Gilgamesh.

“Hey.” Prompto greets Noctis at his pseudo throne which, for the most part, is just another elaborate chair today.

“Hey,” Noctis greets, as a vampire hurries to get Prompto a suitable seat.

“How’s Gladio going?” Prompto asks.

“He’s doing really well.” Noctis preens. “He’s won two matches. A few more and he’ll be in the finals.”

“Anyone else special competing?” Prompto laces their fingers, camera case at his feet as he sits.

“Well Gilgamesh, of course,” Noctis murmurs. “He’s kicking ass today but he’s relying a lot on his age to overpower his opponents. His technique is rusty. He’s just lucky no one his age is in the division.”

“God, I hope Gladio does really well,” Prompto murmurs.

“He will,” Noctis assures. “I have faith.”

Prompto watches the next two competitors square up in the arena. The announcer gives their names and their clan affiliation but not their ages. That said both very quickly set about trying to assess the strength of their opponents with a few blows searching more for depth of power than result. Prompto can sort of tell by the way they move that the vampire from Regis’ clan is older, he’s got more oomph, and the other vampire doesn’t have many options to advance once that’s realised and the older starts laying into him in an attempt to tire him out.

They both move fast, in certain ways humans couldn’t, and their clash is brief but brutal. A stern blow does it and the younger vampire loses his footing entirely. Sword to the throat, man down, the match ends decisively with thick applause.

Prompto saves much of his applause for Gladio’s third match. Gladio isn’t the oldest vampire, Prompto knows, but given Gladio’s bulk and uncharacteristic strength for his age his opponents seem to have a hard time gauging his actual strength. He definitely can’t bash them down for long unless they’re considerably younger which, in his division, they’re unlikely to be. Instead Gladio relies on a few wicked moves and flourishes of technique.

Prompto can’t hear what he’s saying in all the chatter of the vampiric audience but it becomes very quickly apparent as his opponent riles that Gladio is talking trash. Noctis just smirks at Prompto’s side. Sure enough a moment later Gladio’s opponent makes a large manoeuvre, hoping to end it quickly, obviously frustrated, but Gladio redirects their own momentum and counters sharply.

Even Noctis applauds this time.

“He’s clever,” Prompto laughs.

“Gladio started life as a thug, he has instincts for combat, but he’s a scholar now. Best of both worlds.” Noctis rues. “I think that makes him damn dangerous.”

“He really seems to know how to…” Prompto looks for the right word, “adjust for being younger?”

“Oh yeah, Gladio doesn’t always have the brute strength against these guys but his technique is on fire today. He’s giving it his all.”

“Think it’ll be enough against Gilgamesh?” Prompto murmurs.

“Not sure.” Noctis admits. “But I can’t wait to see.”

Prompto only really starts to get the jitters as the sun starts to ease towards sunset and Ignis appears to take a seat.

“Is he still in the race?” Ignis asks at Noctis’ other side.

“He is indeed,” Noctis grins.

“Good.” Ignis crosses his legs.

“Really looks like it’ll be him and Gilgamesh.” Prompto murmurs, chin in hand. “Gladio will be tired after fighting all day though.”

“He’ll need to be smarter than ever,” Noctis agrees.

“Keeping your wits at the end of a long day isn’t easy either.” Ignis reminds. “Exhaustion also racks braincells.”

“Gladiolus is certainly doing well,” Regis calls to them, interrupting their intense fretting.

“He is,” Noctis grins.

“Any last bets on the winner?” Ardyn calls from his side. “I’ve got no man in the finals so…”

“I think our bets would be rather transparent,” Regis chuckles.

“Besides, Gladiolus is skilled, but he’s unlikely to actually overpower Gilgamesh.” Clarus grunts at Regis’ side. “Gilgamesh is a master with the blade.”

“We’ll see,” Noctis maintains, “besides, even if Gladio doesn’t get him this year I don’t think he’ll be far off Gilgamesh’s tail for long.”

“That could be quite a problem.” Regis chuckles.

Noctis holds Prompto’s hand but his other reaches for Ignis and they interlock, all laced up, waiting for the round to start.

“Come on Gladio,” Prompto murmurs, trying not to bite his nails.

Gladio looks delighted to be in the final round if a little sweaty. Gilgamesh acknowledges him openly, with a deep bow, and Gladio returns the gesture with the same kindness. They seem excited to be fighting.

There’s no need for ages to be announced here. Gladio knows Gilgamesh is way older, Gilgamesh knows likewise, and when the round starts Gilgamesh doesn’t pull any punches. He seems to intent to end this as quickly as his other matches.

Gladio manages to take the first blow but his feet visibly dig in the mud, almost slipping. Gilgamesh is packing a lot of force behind each hit.

Gladio turns the script.

Gladio becomes offensive rather than defensive. It’s a strange balance. Gladio doesn’t have the same power so it’s all clever manoeuvring. Gilgamesh fumbles, just for a second, and starts to back up. Gilgamesh manages to block and parry but you can tell no one’s had the balls to make him use his technical brain all day. He’s just been coasting.

Prompto sticks his knuckles in his mouth, Noctis’ fingers tight around his other hand.

Gilgamesh has two options; get in the groove or make a mistake.

Slowly, Gladio herds him but, just as slowly, Gilgamesh starts to get his mojo back. The next parry comes easier.

Gladio starts to realise the tide is turning and he makes one more aggressive attack before Gilgamesh starts fighting back in earnest.

For a second its pure craft, two very talented fighters giving their best, but then—

“Oh come on!” Noctis throws his head back.

Gladio is down, sword skittering out of his hand, and Gilgamesh has the blade against him.

Match over.

Regis erupts into applause, evidently having been a little worried for a second there.

“So close…” Prompto groans.

“He did well all the same,” Ignis smiles softly. “Can’t say he didn’t make us proud.”

“No, he definitely did.” Noctis laughs. “Stay here, I’m going to go congratulate them.”

Noctis climbs down the podium and crosses the torn up earth to the fighters.

Gilgamesh helps Gladio up, evidently no hard feelings, and they’re shaking hands before Noctis even reaches them.

Noctis takes Gilgamesh’s hand and congratulates him. Gilgamesh bows low again, graceful and perhaps little relieved or excited.

While Gilgamesh presents himself to the applauding crowd Noctis drags Gladio down by his neck and bumps their foreheads. Gladio laughs, grabbing his waist, and Noctis smooths back his sweaty hair with what can only be pride.

“We’ll get them next year,” Ignis tells Prompto.

“Yeah, for sure.” Prompto smiles.

* * *

The following day is all about marksmanship. Honestly, Prompto’s not sure what to expect but as they assemble on a shelf overlooking the rocky basin below Ardyn dutifully explains.

“There are, on the mountain, a hundred vampires of varying ages. They are each wearing a calibrated vest and helmet.” Ardyn demonstrates with a lackey. “Our competitors each have uniquely coded rifles. If they get a clear shot on a target and pull the trigger the equipment will register them as having shot that target and the target will be removed from the board. Whoever shoots the most targets wins.”

“And targets can move?” Prompto supposes.

“Targets and competitors both.” Ardyn nods. “What matters is the shot.”

“Interesting,” Noctis murmurs. “And we commence?”

“As soon as you blow that whistle,” Ardyn grins.

Noctis considers the whistle and then something else seems to catch his attention.

“Ardyn,” he grunts, “where’s Verstael?”

Ardyn shrugs innocently.

_Uh oh._

“Ignis, Gladio, no one’s bet on this, right?” Noctis checks quickly.

The other’s shake their heads but several of Regis’ clansmen look decidedly nervous.

“Perhaps—” Clarus opens his mouth.

But it’s too late.

Noctis has blown the whistle.

The vampires take off like bats out of hell. There’s a rush of movement all down the mountain and around the basin. Everyone rushing to get a shot.

It looks pretty cool. Just like yesterday Prompto wishes he had an outlet to charge his new camera.

“You didn’t tell me Verstael could shoot?” Loqi has started into Ardyn.

“It’s not something he advertises but when we met he was quite proficient with a bow and arrow.” Ardyn maintains that unfaltering nonchalance. “But I’ve kept him so sequestered with the war, well, I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s a bit rusty.”

“Right…” Loqi scowls. “And people have bet on this?”

“Well yes, people always bet,” Ardyn shrugs.

“And have _you_ made a bet?” Loqi supposes.

“Yes,” Ardyn scratches his chin.

“On?” Loqi presses.

“Well on Verstael, of course!” Ardyn laughs, theatrically bashful. “I’d be an awful Mate if I didn’t support him!”

“Sweet fuck,” Loqi groans.

Nyx, near Regis, is turning around to hurry back into camp.

“Where are you going?” Ardyn asks innocently.

“To see if I can withdraw my bet!” Nyx bolts.

“I have a feeling the betting pool is closed.” Loqi glowers at Ardyn.

“Well, can’t have anyone getting cold feet…?” Ardyn shrugs. “Honestly, you’re talking as if I’m doing something untoward. My Mate gets to indulge one of his passions for the first time in six thousand years and I’m just supporting him.”

“It’s going to be a bloodbath, isn’t it?” Loqi deadpans.

Ardyn says nothing, just grins.

The contest lasts much less time than Prompto’s expecting. Most of the planners warned them this could drag on till sundown but it’s noon when the organisers register all targets acquired.

They withdraw to the arena to announce the winners.

There are maybe twenty competing shooters.

Most of them didn’t even hit a target.

“In fifth place, with five targets, we have Markus.” Ardyn announces to a smattering of tense applause. “In fourth place, with seven targets, Klein.” Another pause for applause. “In third place, with twelve targets, we have Clarissa.”

Loqi looks so done with everything.

Ignis is tallying the numbers in his phone.

“In second place, with an impressive nineteen targets, we have Luche.” Ardyn congratulates. “And, finally, in first place with a mere forty-six targets— Oh, would you look at that! Verstael!”

Loqi facepalms.

Nyx is massaging his temples and obviously regretting his life choices.

Noctis can’t help it; he sniggers into his knuckles.

“Well congratulations to everyone!” Ardyn cheers. “If you’ll excuse me, just for a moment, I have a brief appointment.”

“Off to collect his winnings I bet,” Gladio groans, exasperated.

“Given the odds and how much he has to bet…” Ignis rues. “He’ll be making bank today.”

“It won’t work twice.” Noctis dismisses. “It’s pretty harmless.”

“Guess they’re full of secrets,” Prompto rubs his neck.

Verstael chooses now to emerge, significantly dressed down from a morning spent running all over the mountain, and Noctis formally congratulates him.

“Thank you,” Verstael smirks.

“I didn’t realise you were such a keen shot.” Noctis snorts.

“Ardyn is protective but that doesn’t mean I’m harmless.” Verstael shrugs.

“I figured as much.” Noctis grins.

“Is it hard to learn?” Prompto wonders.

“In some ways a rifle is better than a sword.” Verstael supposes. “Some modern vampires certainly find it simpler and it’s definitely the easiest to get your hands on in human society.”

“Can you kill a vampire with a gun though?” Prompto wonders.

“Not outright in most cases,” Verstael admits, “but you can cause some serious fucking damage. Besides, there are more human threats than vampire ones and squishy humans are _very_ receptive to bullets.”

“I guess so…” Prompto digests.

“You look interested.” Loqi nudges him.

“A little,” Prompto admits. “It’s kind of nifty.”

“Maybe next year you’ll give me some competition,” Verstael encourages.

“I don’t know about that,” Prompto laughs, “but maybe.”

Just maybe.


	6. Chapter 6

The third day of the tournament is the final contest. Tomorrow they’ll all head back. Well, maybe… there is the matter of Ardyn’s whole _‘you should move to Europe_ ’ scheme to wrestle with.

As they get ready to head to the podium Prompto has to ask Noctis;

“How are you feeling? About the whole moving thing?”

Noctis glances around the tent; to Ignis, to Gladio, to Prompto, and sighs.

“I don’t know,” he admits. “I am really enjoying being here. I was born in the old world. Up in a snowy chasm, in mountains like these before they had names, and I just… I do miss it.”

“It would give Ardyn an advantage if we spent all our time with him and basically didn’t spend any time with Regis and his clan.” Gladio warns.

“By the same token, is it fair to Ardyn to align ourselves with Regis?” Ignis counters.

“The war is on hold,” Prompto nods, “we should be trying to build bridges between both sides. Especially because we go between so easily we’ve got a real chance to help both sides get along better.”

“Maybe that’s the solution then?” Noctis seems to compute. “Maybe we do a time share?”

“Six months in Europe, six months in America?” Ignis supposes.

“Or even more broadly,” Noctis suggest. “Ardyn’s territory includes Africa, Asia, the Middle East and Europe. Regis has North America, South America, Oceania and the Caribbean. We wouldn’t just have to split between Seattle and Vienna, ya know?”

“Travelling more would be fun.” Prompto slouches. “And we could meet more vampires that way.”

“Noctis could do more public appearances, build our profile,” Ignis begins to plot. “The more relationships we have, independent of Regis and Ardyn’s direct influence, the better for everyone.”

“There’s a whole supernatural world out there,” Gladio murmurs. “Werewolves and shit.”

“That’s a good point. With humans expanding and becoming stronger it might benefit all vampires if we can have better relations with our cultural neighbors too.” Ignis nods. “Regis and Ardyn can only conduct relations on behalf of their clans. Noctis can speak on behalf of all vampires. That might bring folk to the table.”

“World tour!” Prompto cheers.

“Sounds like it,” Noctis laughs. “We all happy with that?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Gladio nods.

“I’ll talk to Ardyn after the contest today.” Noctis decides. “And, also, Prompto and I need to talk to you guys about something when we get home.”

“I don’t think that’s necessary,” Ignis drawls. “I’m not blind, Noctis.”

“What?” Gladio grunts, head swivelling back and forth.

“See! Gladio doesn’t know!” Noctis points.

“Gladio’s had his head in the clouds with the tournament,” Ignis counters, “if he wasn’t distracted he would’ve noticed immediately.”

“Noticed what?” Gladio demands.

Noctis wiggles his eyebrows, Prompto buries his face.

“ _Oh!_ ” Gladio digests. “ _Finally!_ ”

“What’s that mean?” Prompto shoves him, flushing hard.

“Well it was bound to happen eventually, right?” Gladio laughs. “I was just sick of you two making eyes at each other and not going in for the kill. The sexual tension was killing me.”

“Killing _you?_ ” Noctis huffs.

“I am a very romantic person!” Gladio defends. “I suffer by extension!”

Ignis sighs.

“We’re going to be late for the contest,” he announces, “we should head off.”

“God, let’s.” Noctis rolls his eyes.

The arena is set up today, one final time, for the main event they all came here to witness. The unrestricted gladiatorial matches. Vampire on vampire, any combination of weapons, any age bracket. It should be wild.

Prompto is given a cosy little seat next to Noctis, all wrapped up in his cloak, cup of blood cocoa in hand and he gets to watch vampires of all shapes and sizes just… just lay into one another.

Glauca is fucking fierce. Very like Gilgamesh in some ways but whereas Gilgamesh always seems to move to disarm Glauca very obviously moves to immobilise and _destroy_. Gilgamesh wanted to get Gladio’s sword out of his hands. Glauca wants to make it so his opponents can’t get back up to try again. In some ways that’s necessary; opponents in these matches can uses their bare fists after all, but there’s so little restraint it’s frankly scary.

Ardyn looks like he wants popcorn.

Prompto suspects Glauca was turned and likely trained to be a war weapon. Now the war’s on hold he’s a bit scary for even tournament fighting.

Prompto tries to sympathise.

He was turned practically by accident, no intention in mind, but what if he was turned to be a weapon? And what if he outlived his usefulness? He’d probably be pretty distraught. In a big, tough, manly vampire way of course but still distraught.

Nyx is a different beast altogether. He’s only six hundred, only a little older than Gladio, but like Gladio he shines technically. He uses his decreased strength and limber size to his advantage. He’s very sassy, a total show pony, and his matches seem more like performances than actual battles. He tricks his opponents into corners. More than once he seems about to go left when he’ll suddenly go right, so to speak, and power into a totally different move than the one he’s been telegraphing for the last few minutes. His ability to build up a strategy while pretending to prepare for another strategy is really impressive.

Prompto, chin in hand, is kind of glad none of their coven are engaged in this contest. He’d hate to see Glauca beat down Gladio. He’s not sure he could stay quiet in his seat.

The battles are fiercely competitive and they rage most of the day.

Prompto’s content to stay in his seat, occasionally snacking, occasionally talking to his relatives, mostly at peace as they wait for the finale.

In the afternoon, under the waning sun, they scrape the mud one last time for the match of the century.

No one’s surprised it’s Glauca versus Nyx but even Noctis sits a little straighter to watch.

It’s explosive from the first second. Glauca has obviously fought Nyx before and he’s keen not to let the Lucian pull a fast one on him. He wants to take Nyx down fast and hard. It’s obvious. Nyx too is a little more serious but fucking around is part of his fighting style. He darts, daggers out, and in a flourish he manages to disarm Glauca of his sword.

That doesn’t mean it’s over, not yet.

Glauca doesn’t even try to pick his sword up again. He just raises his fists and beckons Nyx closer. Getting in closer is dangerous for Nyx but it’s also the only way to force Glauca down. He’s not just going to concede the match after all.

Nyx charges, swipes—

Glauca catches one blade In his hand, ignoring the blood and the pain, and cracks Nyx with a hard right hook as soon as he’s in range.

Nyx loses his footing.

Glauca sees the chance to tackle Nyx down and he takes it.

Then Glauca starts punching hard, over and over…

The crowd goes very quiet.

Prompto feels himself wince with every audible blow.

But Glauca just keeps hitting.

Regis stirs a little in his seat, pale.

“ _Ardyn_ ,” Noctis snaps.

Laid back Ardyn whistles.

Glauca’s fist stops, mid-air, and he sits back on top of Nyx.

“I do believe he’s down.” Ardyn calls.

Glauca stands, arms spread, and awaits his applause.

It’s a little scattered but he doesn’t seem to care.

Nyx is limp.

Noctis stands, stiff and scowling.

“Ignis, Gladio.” He whispers roughly. “Get Nyx into medical.”

Ignis and Gladio make their way briskly down the podium, trying not to move fast enough to cause a panic, and haul Nyx up into their arms. They’re shuffling him away, carrying him, as Noctis makes his way down to congratulate Glauca.

Noctis doesn’t seem much in the mood to congratulate anyone.

Prompto feels shaken, unsettled, but it’s over now.

Right…?

Noctis crosses the mud.

He says a few words, perhaps a little curt, but takes Glauca’s hand to shake.

Glauca nods, expression as impassive as ever, takes Noctis hand and—

Glauca thrust his other hand, fast and hard, into Noctis’ chest.

Not just a punch.

He digs into the skin.

He’s probably got a hand around Noctis’ heart.

For a split second Prompto’s frozen.

Loqi is the first one to scream.

Things happen very fast.

Noctis yanks Glauca’s hand inward while hiking his leg up to kick the vampire’s body back.

In a flourish only Noctis’ strength would allow Glauca’s lower arm rips off, still lodged in Noctis, and Glauca flies back to hit into a stand base.

Ardyn’s already over the podium, Gilgamesh close behind.

Prompto scrambles to his feet and hurls himself over the railing.

Glauca makes the mistake of getting back up to face Ardyn and Gilgamesh.

Prompto doesn’t pay attention to what happens next. He’s just aware of himself skidding in the mud. He scrambles to Noctis, Verstael hauling ass just behind him.

Noctis slumps to his knees, panting.

“Hold still.” Verstael orders, pushing Noctis back into Prompto’s arms as he rolls his own wrists up roughly.

“What’re you—” Prompto is hysterical. He can’t form words.

“Got to get the arm out. Before he starts healing around it.” Verstael grunts, both hands around the dangling forearm and—

Verstael and Noctis both yank.

Noctis makes a horrible sound, in pain.

Prompto winces and totally ignores Glauca’s foot as it bounces, unrelated, past them in the scatter of Gilgamesh and Ardyn ripping him to pieces.

Noctis is panting.

Verstael is pulling debris and fabric out of the wound and then applies pressure with his bare hands.

“Is he--?” Prompto warbles.

“He’ll be fine in a minute.” Verstael snaps. “Better with blood.”

Prompto doesn’t think long enough to hesitate.

He holds Noctis in one arm, brings his free wrist to his mouth and digs his teeth into the skin.

“Don’t--!” Verstael tries to stop him.

Prompto presses his wrist against Noctis’ mouth and Noctis grabs his arm tight. Noctis is evidently in a haze, not quite thinking, but he fastens his mouth and starts sucking _hard_.

Prompto holds himself still, lets it happen, but he’s starting to feel dizzy.

He knows no vampire with any brain cells is going to get between hazed Noctis and food right now. Even injured Noctis could kill them. Prompto’s just banking on Noctis’ ability to stop before he kills Prompto again, for good this time.

* * *

Prompto must pass out.

Maybe he’s dead?

He hopes he’s not dead.

He was just getting good at being a vampire.

He tries, body like stone, to move his toes. They twitch, seemingly a million miles away, but they twitch. Prompto focuses on his eyelashes next.

It’s dark where he is, nightfall’s come and gone. The moon feels like its high. That’s what Prompto’s gut says. He’s in some kind of cottage. He can smell humans were here not too long ago but he can’t hear them now. 

He tries to dart his eyes, a little groggy.

He finds Verstael first, a bowl of blood next to him.

Verstael pauses, seemingly sensing his gaze, and glances down.

“Hey.” He whispers. “You back with us?”

“Hi…” Prompto croaks with a voice like broken glass. “Where…?”

“We brought you down the mountain,” Verstael explains. “I didn’t have much equipment on me to get blood back in your system but we made do the old, _old_ , fashioned way.”

“How…?” Prompto wonders.

“Two humans lived here. Some kind of vacation home.” Verstael grunts. “Drained them. I’ve been coaxing cold blood down your unresponsive gullet for hours. You’re welcome.”

“T-thanks,” Prompto rasps. “Am I gonna…?”

“You’ll be fine.” Verstael promises, touching his fingers gently. “But you almost died. Another few mouthfuls and the First would’ve eaten you.”

“Is Noct okay?”

“Noctis is fine,” Verstael snorts, exasperated.

“Is he here…?” Prompto murmurs.

“Ignis and Gladiolus are standing guard outside. Noctis had to stay up the mountain to avoid another war. Regis had the nerve to accuse Ardyn of orchestrating that ludicrous assassination attempt.”

“Glauca?”

“Ardyn and Gilgamesh juiced him into a pulp.” Verstael promises. 

“I feel sick…” Prompto groans.

“You almost died and you’ve got a lot of cold blood churning in your system. I’m not surprised.” Verstael sighs. “But don’t you dare throw up, you hear me? You need that blood to recover.”

Prompto wants to argue that’s easier said than done but he doesn’t think that’d help him right now.

“I guess the tournament’s over…” He whispers.

“I’d say,” Verstael slumps, sitting on the edge of the bed. “What a disaster…” He groans, massaging the bridge of his nose.

“Why do that?” Prompto fumbles. “Why try and kill Noct?”

“Who knows,” Verstael shakes his head. “He’s too dead to tell us his motive now.”

“You didn’t know he was going to try anything…?” Prompto has to ask.

“We had no idea.” Verstael assures. “War, no war, _whatever_. None of that means Ardyn would ever want Noctis dead. You know that, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” Prompto tries to nod weakly. “I think so…”

“Fuck,” Verstael sighs again, huffing. “Do you want your coven?”

“Please…?” Prompto rasps.

“Stay still, I’ll go get them,” Verstael promises, squeezing his hand as he stands.

Ignis and Gladio are quick to come to Prompto’s side. They only need a little permission. Gladio stands by the bed, Ignis takes the seat, fishing up Prompto’s hand. Gladio pushes some of Prompto’s hair back, sighing, while Ignis kisses his limp knuckles.

“You scared us Blondie,” Gladio laughs breathlessly.

“Noct was hurt,” Prompto shrugs, his body feels like it weighs a thousand tons.

“I am never letting you two out of my sight again,” Ignis whispers, tense.

“Agreed,” Gladio grunts. “You’re a baby and Noctis might be tough but even he should have a bodyguard right now.”

“I’ll be okay,” Prompto tries to argue, even though right now it’s pathetically obvious how wrecked he is.

“You shush,” Ignis orders, “you’re going to get better and then you’re never doing anything that insane ever again.”

“Noct was hurt,” Prompto repeats, kind of petulant.

“Yeah well we’d be in a lot of trouble without you,” Gladio argues. “Can you imagine how Noct would be if he killed you? Don’t scare us like that.”

“Is this gonna start the war again?” Prompto frets.

“No, I don’t think so, darling.” Ignis promises. “Noctis will talk them down.”

“If Ardyn wanted Noctis dead why would he have stepped in to stop Glauca at all?” Gladio grunts. “He was as shocked as the rest of us. It’s shit but, for once, this isn’t Ardyn’s fault.”

“Damn right it isn’t!” Verstael announces shortly from the next room.

Gladio snorts.

“I want Noct…” Prompto admits.

“He’ll be down soon as he can,” Ignis promises. “You can help all of us by resting and getting your strength back, okay?”

“Stay with me?”

“Of course darling,” Ignis promises, climbing into the musty human bed to wrap him up.

* * *

Prompto feels a little stronger when he wakes again but still not great. Ignis is gone but he can hear Ignis and Gladio in the rest of the house talking to other vampires. It sounds like Ardyn is here.

Prompto tries to move.

Is Noct--?

“Whoa, hey, easy there…” Noctis catches him and pulls him back down. “I’m right here, Prom. Right here.”

Prompto slumps, loose as jelly.

“Thank goodness,” he whispers. “You’re okay.”

“ _Me?_ ” Noctis snorts. “Isn’t that my line right now?”

“I didn’t get gutted.” Prompto huffs against his chest.

“No, you just almost got drained.” Noctis replies just as stubbornly. “Fuck, I’m sorry Prom. I was just hurt and I wasn’t thinking clearly. I should’ve stopped sooner.”

“It’s fine,” Prompto promises. “So long as you’re okay.”

“God, we’re as bad as each other.” Noctis laughs weakly.

Prompto nestles closer, not offering anything helpful. He just wants to be close. To be safe. To be with Noctis.

Noctis strokes his hair.

“Prom,” he murmurs, “I want to ask you something, okay?”

Prompto listens.

“I know this is all new,” Noctis promises, “and today was scary but I just…”

“Yeah?” Prompto nudges, stroking Noctis jaw in a weak attempt to bring them nose to nose.

“I want you to Bond with me.” Noctis murmurs. “Not cause I’m scared. Not because of any of that. Just because I want to feel close to you. Is that…?”

Prompto hesitates.

“I don’t want you to think this is just reactionary,” Noctis murmurs. “I mean—I guess it is? I don’t want to go another second without you being that close. I don’t want to wait for some stupid time frame to pass just because other people will say we should. I want to feel you close. I was just too nervous to ask the last few nights.”

“I can’t return the favour,” Prompto rues.

“There will be plenty of other nights to return the favour,” Noctis promises. “Let me just take care of you right now?”

Prompto thinks about it.

Honestly?

He doesn’t want to go another second, alive or dead, without knowing Noctis is his.

Maybe that’s crazy, maybe that’s too fast, but fuck it.

Prompto knows how he feels.

He nods.

Noctis pulls him up to sit in his lap, held close. Prompto tucks his head against Noctis’ neck and, nosing gently, gets together the strength to extend his fangs.

Noctis makes a sound, a little surprised, mostly pleased.

Gods, Noctis tastes just as amazing as Prompto remembers…

Warm, bubbly, sparkling.

Prompto lets the blood rush to his head, like a drug, and soaks up the feeling of Noctis’ heart thumping against his chest and under his lips. Noctis is safe. Noctis loves him. It’ll all be alright.

Prompto lulls away after just a few mouthfuls, too high to stay latched, and laughing giddily buries his face in Noctis’ clavicle.

“Better?” Noctis supposes.

“Yeah.” Prompto assures because, right now? The blood feels very healing too.

“I love you Prom.” Noctis promises.

“I love you,” Prompto squeezes back tightly. “So much.”

“It’ll all be okay. One way or another. We’ll be okay.”

Prompto nods.

He’s sure it will be.

Whatever happens, they’ve got each other, now and forever.


End file.
